Slow Down
by TC Stark
Summary: AU taking place after AOU. Pietro Maximoff has a second chance at life with the Avengers. He has new friends, a nice place to live, and his twin by his side. Life is good. When someone new walks in, he only wants to share his life with her. Unfortunately, that dream may cut short sooner than he would ever think. For a man always running, everything is going to stop. Pietro/OC
1. Chapter 1

TC Stark: Hello! It's been a while since I've written anything Marvel related, but this is an idea that's been floating around since I saw Avengers 2. I really would like this to be a relaxing project for me and I hope anyone who reads it will like it too. I have taken some liberties, such as Pietro actually living after the events of AOU and breaking up Bruce and Natasha. I'm sorry, it just didn't work. Besides that, I would like to stay as in character with everyone as possible. So, if anyone sees any discrepancies, please point them out. Thank you!

Also, please "like" my fanpage pages/TC-Starks-Writing-Corner/1377045832592468 :) I post a lot of stuff fandom related as well as my own works.

Disclaimer: If anyone has read my "Whatever Time We Have Left" story, I am reusing Tilda. I found with that story that I never developed her properly, so I'm revamping her - giving her a fresh coat of wax and throwing her into this story. Also, as much as I love the Cap, I've realized (in my head) she is much better suited in this AU, as this is a Pietro/OC story (with small parts of Cap/Black Widow because they're my OTP). This story is rated M for mature content, such as sex, violence, death, language, etc. I try not to ever be too vulgar, but also don't believe in censorship. This story deals with the serious issues of a fatal medical condition, so there's that. I do not own anyone, except Tilda and my ideas.

Chapter One

They had thought he was dead. It had seemed logical enough. If someone got shot multiple times and collapsed on the ground, not moving for several hours; it seemed the plausible conclusion would be that he was dead. It had been a real shame, considering they had all just started to work well together.

What none of the Avengers had taken into account, was that Pietro Maximoff's cell structure was different than the average human's. Not only did the man have the ability of super speed and a incredibly fast metabolism, but also a very fast healing system. Sure, at first his body did shut down, but after a few hours, the bullets were popped out and all the wounds were closed. Quicksilver had jumped off that table so fast it had given the coroner a heart attack - luckily, he survived.

It had been a whirlwind of emotions for the Maximoff twins. All they had had in life were each other, and for a brief moment, Wanda had truly thought Pietro was gone. Her brother had woken up to find out the Avengers had beaten Ultron, were now based in a new facility in upstate New York, and his sister seemed to have a... _friendly_ relationship with The Vision.

"But, I look good, no?" Pietro smugly asked, as he and his sister sauntered throughout the facility. Though their homeland was on the other side of the ocean, they knew now that they were Avengers and their lives could never turn around to go back in the past. It actually felt good, like having extended family.

Wanda gave a warm, kind smile while reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind Pietro's ear, "Yes, very good. I would not think Avenger's facility would have beauty salon in it."

With a shrug, Pietro waved his hands in a circle, "It is Tony Stark - he's vain man."

The experiments the enhanced twins underwent had left strange side effects. Oddly enough, what had bothered Pietro the most, was what it had done to his hair. The blonde had made him look as if he had gotten a terrible dye job, and whoever had done it bleached it too much. Now, at least he looked more natural.

As the twins strolled around a corner, Pietro turned to ask Wanda in their native tongue, " _Who is that with Natasha?"_

Living in the Avengers facility, they were used to seeing other former SHIELD agents. Nick Fury had a bit of a following that those who were blind to Hydra's secret operation, had followed the director even after the disband. Natasha wasn't very talkative to those she didn't deem trustworthy, so seeing her so casually speaking with someone was odd.

Only about two inches taller than the Black Widow, this other woman wore the typical outfit Pietro was used to seeing SHIELD agents wear. Black leather pants, thigh holsters, combat boots, and a tank top most women would wear to the gym. A black headband kept wisps of hair out of the stranger's face. She too must have seen the facility's barber shop, as her hair was long and unnaturally orange.

This woman had the typical body of an agent. Feminine curves, with a toned behind (he looked, he couldn't help himself), flat stomach, and what looked like an average sized chest. Not as big as Natasha though - _God,_ he shouldn't have been so observing when it came to his female coworkers, but he liked to think he was that way with everyone. Everyone was unique in their own ways, he liked to think he was just seeing everyone's little details.

Whoever she was, she had peach colored skin and green eyes. Her arms were defined, like someone who did a lot of pushups and pullups. Her right arm was covered in a full sleeve of tattoos, though Pietro couldn't make them out. Neither he nor Wanda had any ink, though it was common for the poor class in Sokovia to get depictions of how hard life was on their bodies.

"You two gonna keep staring or be social?" Natasha gave a small smirk, her sultry eyes shifting over towards the twins.

Moving closer to the two agents, the other opened her body to the Maximoff twins and looked both up and down, "So, these are the enhanced, huh? Sorry I missed out on all the fun."

Natasha amusedly rolled her eyes and introduced, "Agent Tilda Stygar has been based in our Australian base for the past few years."

"Before shit hit the fan and we all found out we were working for some crazed Nazi organization," Tilda scoffed with her arms folded, "What a disaster it was trying to regroup, save whatever we could, and not be hunted. And you guys were secretive, took me forever to get in touch with Fury."

"Well, we weren't exactly that liked - Hydra and all. Anyway, this is Pietro and Wanda. The Maximoff twins."

They all exchanged simple nods, while Wanda tilted her head and asked, "I recognize the name Stygar."

Tilda gave a crooked smirk, her eyes holding a small glimpse of rue, "He was an infamous Swedish doctor known for experimenting on his daughter. I think he wanted to be Sigmund Freud of something. He actually tried to replicate Captain America's serum because he was obsessed with the guy, but can you believe he actually ended up dying of cancer?" She nonchalantly shrugged, winking at Natasha before leaving.

Pietro's eyes temporarily followed Tilda's behind, before Wanda gently smacked his arm. Sometimes, her brother could be a real dog. Back in Sokovia, he certainly got a lot of attention from the female gender, and even some men at times. While he was always suave and kind towards those who gave him all that confidence, the twin didn't remember him hardly acting on it - he could have been a real _man whore,_ if he had wanted to be.

Turning towards the Black Widow, Pietro asked, "She friend of yours?"

With a small shrug, Natasha answered, "She was one of the first people I met when joining SHIELD. I would say our paths have crossed a lot."

"Whatever happened to Dr. Stygar's daughter?" Wanda asked.

"That was her."

* * *

Dr. Bruce Banner was sitting at one of the desks in the Avenger base's laboratory, looking through a microscope, when Tilda walked in. It had taken a few weeks, but the doctor had finally returned to the Avengers. Albeit embarrassed, he stepped back in with his tail between his legs and went back to work. It was not easy being The Hulk. Everyone thought it was a great asset, but it was his burden and it was a heavy weight to bare.

Things had been awkward at first in the base, but eventually Bruce and Natasha came to an understanding that a relationship between them would not work. It felt forced and perhaps they wanted to really liked each other, but there was nothing there other than a good friendship and mutual respect.

"Dr. Banner, right?"

Looking up from the microscope, Bruce removed his glasses while standing up to shake the agent's hand, "Yes, but please - Bruce. Tilda, right?"

Tilda nodded, as Bruce let her to a different portion of the lab. Everything was incredibly clean or almost futuristic. It must have been a scientist's dream to have everything Tony Stark could provide at his disposal. There was equipment there that other researchers would have sold their souls to own.

"So, I read your files." Bruce started, retrieving a few items before walking over to him.

Green eyes watched as the doctor prepared a syringe to collect a blood sample, "Last time I had a checkup was in London - last year. I didn't have any time to really see anyone else, y'know with the whole Hydra, SHIELD thing going on."

Bruce nodded, looking around and seeing he left the disinfectant on another table. Before he was able to retrieve it, the item floated towards him and hovered in front of the doctor's face. He looked skeptically at Tilda, who only raised an eyebrow at him before he reached out and grabbed what he needed.

"So, it's true. Telekinesis?"

Tilda nodded her head, "Yep. Started bending spoons with my mind when I was ten. My real potential hit when I was sixteen. Just a couple of years before my father died and SHIELD got me. Hm. Nine years go by fast."

As Bruce began taking blood, he asked, "I read Dr. Stygar stretched out your serum intakes over the years. That's a lot of exposure for a young person."

With a shrug, the orange haired woman responded, "Yea, well - dad was convinced that you just didn't have the serum down right. That he could perfect whatever formula was used on Captain America and make a female version. I don't think he ever really liked the telekinesis thing, but rolled with it," Snorting, she added, "Steve Rogers' face was plastered everywhere in our place growing up. It was what I was supposed to aspire to. Haven't met the guy yet, he seems cool, I guess."

"He is a very good man," Bruce nodded, before finally asking, "How many years did they give you?"

There was the question she was expecting. Looking down at her nails, Tilda shrugged, "Ten. They said it could change, depending if the deterioration of my cells decided to increase. Guess daddy didn't calculate that all that extra exposure to radiation might actually do some damage."

"I'm sorry."

"I'm not sentimental," Tilda shrugged, "It's something I've made peace with a long time ago. Your quality of life kind of goes down when the only reason you were really born was to be experimented on," Cracking a small smile, she commented, "But, you didn't ask me to come see you for my life story."

"No, but I did ask you here because your case is well documented and Dr. Stygar did get a lot of media attention before his death. I don't...I don't know why anyone would mess with that serum, especially after what happened to me."

As blood was being drawn, Tilda explained, "Because science won't ever rest."

"That was your father's famous line during his court hearing."

The enhanced agent nodded, as if realizing that she did indeed quote her father, "Well, the old man had a flare for dramatics. Like Stark."

Bruce snorted, "You haven't seen dramatic until you've met Tony. He's definitely more of a fan of...public speaking than I am, but...he is a genius. Our working relationship really benefits I think so. Well...besides Ultron, I guess."

And almost leveling New York City. Tilda refrained from saying that. People often didn't like having their failures pointed out. Sometimes, social interaction wasn't her best quality, but from being with SHIELD, she had learned a lot that her parents had neglected to teach her. Her mother and father hadn't been married, nor even dating. They were just colleagues who decided to have a child through artificial insemination, as sexual intercourse seemed repulsive to them.

After Bruce collected what he could, Tilda slid off the medical table and cracked her back. The doctor observed that she seemed to be in good health. Physically at least. Perhaps she was a little too aloof at the idea of dying, but heart rate was fine, brain function was good - he supposed he really wouldn't know how her cells were doing until he got them under a microscope, and he didn't want to do that with her around.

Shaking her hand, Bruce explained, "I'll try to get these results as soon as possible. You're living on base now, right?"

"Yep, um, third floor I believe. I just got in this morning. And take your time, Bruce, I'm in no rush," Smiling, Tilda nodded, "It was great meeting you. Guess we're connected in some weird way, huh?"

"Weird, definitely."

Tilda smiled, while turning around to leave. It was just then that Steve Rogers was walking in, dressed casually as he had just been out with Sam Wilson. The two hadn't met, but Natasha had informed him that they had a newcomer in the facility. As the unofficial Captain of the Avengers, he had wanted to meet the newest edition.

Tilda though, hurriedly walked passed the captain and out the door. Befuddled, Steve turned towards Bruce and asked, "Who was that?"

"Your biggest fan. I think."


	2. Chapter 2

TC Stark: So, it was in my fingers to write more tonight and I wanted to put out this little chapter! Still just moving the story along, getting the characters to know each other. This story is very centered, so there's really no adventure - just human interactions. But, I think great drama and storyline. Thank you to all those who have fav'd this and to my lovely reviewer! ^^

Disclaimer: If anyone has read my "Whatever Time We Have Left" story, I am reusing Tilda. I found with that story that I never developed her properly, so I'm revamping her - giving her a fresh coat of wax and throwing her into this story. Also, as much as I love the Cap, I've realized (in my head) she is much better suited in this AU, as this is a Pietro/OC story (with small parts of Cap/Black Widow because they're my OTP). This story is rated M for mature content, such as sex, violence, death, language, etc. I try not to ever be too vulgar, but also don't believe in censorship. This story deals with the serious issues of a fatal medical condition, so there's that. I do not own anyone, except Tilda and my ideas.

Chapter Two

A week had passed and Wanda found herself in the facility's cafeteria. Unlike the tower in New York City that seemed more of a meetup place for the Avengers, this location was truly their base. Like a military camp, though friendlier. With living resources. As if Nick Fury's former SHIELD and their group merged to have a brighter, more positive place for them all to come together.

"Having a hard time choosing what to eat?"

Wanda turned to see Vision coming up behind her, having picked up on her inability to make a decision in that moment. It was hard coming from poverty and suddenly not having to struggle to put food on the table. Whatever they wanted, it was afforded to them. Having such a choice should have been relieving to her, but instead she found it more nerve wracking. Part of her always felt guilty, for now having so much.

Looking back at the buffet, Wanda sighed, "There is so much. Why do I deserve so much, when there are so many who have so little?"

With a sigh, the Vision reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear and explain, "It does seem unfair and cruel; poverty and famine is something that plagues many people on this planet. But, you should not deny yourself - you and your brother have been through much yourselves."

"You're right," Wanda nodded, while finally picking up a plate. She paused once again and smirked at the unusual man, "If Pietro sees us, he might have a heart attack."

The Vision gave a little smile, nodding, "I do suspect he is not the biggest fan of any man who might be interested in his sister."

"You right, so please step away, I do not wish to vomit before breakfast."

Wanda groaned and rolled her eyes, stepping aside as Pietro grabbed a plate and began filling it with food. As someone with a very fast metabolism, he ate constantly and big portions. It was something they had discovered when he would faint during running, because his glucose levels were so low.

Hands on her hips, Wanda scolded, "Pietro, we are adults now. I can date whomever I want - I never criticized your choice of women."

"But, you're my sister. It always my job to protect you." He argued.

"I am not child. We're in America now, I don't need a man to protect me." Wanda spat back, giving her brother the eye that said she was not joking around.

Flinching back, Pietro grumbled under his breath while piling up two plates and looking over at Vision. He was a very calm man and perhaps, the Maximoff brother was being a little over protective. But, he was raised with the ideals that a man always should protect a woman. And while Wanda was very capable of defending herself and didn't need any male to fight her battles, she was the only family he had left and letting go was hard.

Calmly standing there, Vision allowed Pietro to glare at him for a few more seconds before stating, "I assure you I have nothing, but the most sincere intentions."

Sore over essentially feeling like a child scolded by his parents, Pietro nodded silently and then turned back to Wanda, "Do you not want to eat breakfast with me?"

"Do not be child, Pietro, go get us utensils."

* * *

Steve Rogers spent a lot of time in the gym. It could have been a combination of needing to keep his muscles active, not really knowing what to do with himself, and because it took his mind off of things. Not that life was as difficult as it was when he first woke from his chilled slumber - he was used to modern day life. Had found his place in the world being Captain America and part of the Avengers, and had plenty of people he called friends.

Still, it was a routine he couldn't break free from.

Entering the gym, he saw a newcomer. In fact, the same person he had ran into when seeing Banner. Tilda Stygar. Bruce had filled Steve into who she was, frowning at seeing her. The Cap didn't like hearing of people trying to use the serum that transformed him. Anything, but the original would be missing key components as the creator was dead, and the experiment working was a fluke. He wished anyone else would see that it was clearly not a good idea messing with the human DNA structure.

Tilda was in a pair of black cropped sweatpants, sneakers, and a gray tank top. Her orange had was in a down braid, a headband keeping back any unwanted strands. The agent was performing some pull ups, allowing Steve to see that she had good muscle definition in her arms. SHIELD really didn't spare any expense when it came to training their agents.

"I guess um...it's a little awkward, us meeting." Steve decided to be the one first to speak, clearing his throat as he stood feet spread and hands in front.

Gently lowering herself until letting go, Tilda smacked the chalk off her hands and shrugged, "Why would it be awkward?" Walking over to a bench, she then turned around and laughed, "Actually, it is a little awkward. I grew up with posters of you everywhere. Kind of weird seeing you here now."

Steve chuckled. Now that was something he was used to. It was surreal seeing that he was actually in a museum. He would have never guessed that being Captain America back then would have made the impact that it did. Nor did he ever think he would actually be living 70 years into the future, where he was just as, if not more, relevant.

"I was more so meaning, well...about the experiments."

Tilda smirked, "I knew what you meant. I don't blame you or hold grudges if that's what you think."

"Well...okay. I look forward to working with you." Steve was unsure really how to respond.

Laughing, Tilda picked up her gym bag and used her powers to rearrange all the equipment to how it was before - stunning the Cap slightly. She lazily saluted him while leaving, passing by Natasha who looked like she too was ready for a workout. The Black Widow smiled at seeing Steve looking confused; it was cute seeing him shocked, when their whole team was made up of people with superpowers.

Sultrily sauntering passed the Cap, Natasha ran her finger across his waistband while cooing, "Ready for our workout, Cap?"

Eyes focused on the door for a moment, Steve looked at the redhead sideways while stating, "Hope you came prepared today, Romanoff."

* * *

" _Apel'sin!_ New girl! Forgot your name!"

Tilda had been walking down the hall after a long shower, her hair still wet and pulled back into a ponytail. She had been heading down to the cafeteria, when she heard someone calling her name. It was Pietro Maximoff, who was surprisingly jogging towards her. From what she heard, she had thought he'd perhaps be dashing as superspeed everywhere.

Tilting an eyebrow upwards, the agent asked, " _Apel'sin_?"

"It's Russian for Orange. Like the fruit," Motioning to her, Pietro added, "And your hair."

Tilda wasn't sure the word was catchy enough - or even something she could pronounce - to become a lasting nickname. Resting against one hip, the telekinetic informed, "Tilda. My name is Tilda."

As if a lightbulb going off, Pietro nodded and threw his hands in the air, "Yes, yes. I know now. It was...on the tip of my tongue, but I could not remember. Tidal. Yes. My name is Pietro."

"I remember," She gave a small smirk, pointing to her temple, "My brain is kind of my main tool. So it's pretty sharp."

"Yes, the mind powers. Must be cool, yes? You move things with your mind. I'd never get off the couch." Pietro gave a cheeky grin, as Tilda began walking and he followed.

Considering it, the first generation American shook her head, "I supposed I could, but that would be dull. And I think I'd probably lose muscle."

"I see that. Maybe one day we arm wrestle?"

Giving Pietro a strange look, Tilda eyed his muscles briefly and commented, "You might have me beat. Where's your twin? I heard you two are attached at the hip."

Pietro frowned at the question, snorting under his breath, "She is with The Vision. After Sokovia, always The Vision. Vision, Vision, Vision. Yes, Wanda never really date before and perhaps I am being too concerned, but must he always be around? It is strange. Did you know he no eat or sleep? He is not human. My sister is dating a not human."

"Are any of us really human anymore?"

The woman had a point. Normal human beings didn't have the ability to run at supersonic speeds. Or control things with their minds. Or turn into a giant green monster. Pietro supposed since they all relatively looked _normal_ that he didn't separate himself from civilians. But, even though without superhuman powers were above the norm. Perhaps it was wrong for him to discriminate against the Vision.

As they kept walking, Tilda stopped in front of Pietro and finally asked, "Why are you following me, by the way?"

The question stumped him, finding he really had no other reason than just really falling into it. Looking away momentarily, Pietro shrugged, "I enjoy myself here, but sometimes I am bored. Cap is always busy, whether with the Avengers or the Falcon, Barton spends much time with his family, not so close with Natasha, the Hulk no, Thor in Asgard, Stark...he's Stark, and now Wanda is with the Vision. I suppose I am lonely. You're new. So, I get to know you maybe?"

"You don't want to do that."

"Perhaps I do?"

Finally reaching the cafeteria, Tilda pointed out, "You're persistent, aren't you?"

"If you want me to leave, I leave," His heavily accented voice offered, "But, I am starving. I would like to get food first."

With a gentle roll of her eyes, Tilda eventually gave an amused smile while referring to the buffet, "It's a free country, eat whatever you would like."

" _Spasibo._ " Pietro thanked, while placing his hand on her shoulder.

It was that act that had Tilda flinching back and Pietro felt something stopping him from taking a step forward. A force field. Confused, Quicksilver looked to her for answers as she asked, "Is that something you normally do? Invade people's personal space?"

Curious as to why she was suddenly wary of him, the Sokovian explained, "I did not mean to offend. It was not meant to be vulgar. My people are very touchy people. We hug, ruffle hair, pat each other's faces. It's very common. Do you not like that?"

Lips tight, Tilda turned her head back towards the buffet and shook her head. Though they had both experienced experimentation, Pietro surmised that hers was much more extreme. Having been the daughter of the infamous Dr. Stygar. He couldn't imagine being so closed off - human interaction was what he thrived off of, yet there were people out there who didn't share that desire of openness.

"Enjoy your dinner." Tilda stated, deciding she wasn't hungry and leaving the room.

Once she was gone, the force field disappeared and Pietro could move again. He panted gently, frowning. It was not his intention to push boundaries, it was just what he was used to. The Sokovian did not like making bad impressions - he wanted to get along with all his teammates, since he and his sister had not gotten off on the right foot with them.

" _Derr'mo_." Pietro cursed under his breath, sadly going to reach for food.


	3. Chapter 3

TC Stark: I am so, so happy at all the favs, follows, and reviews! ^^ Thank you guys! Please continue telling me how you feel about the story, I love feedback. And I hope you continue to enjoy this as much as I'm enjoying writing it!

Disclaimer: If anyone has read my "Whatever Time We Have Left" story, I am reusing Tilda. I found with that story that I never developed her properly, so I'm revamping her - giving her a fresh coat of wax and throwing her into this story. Also, as much as I love the Cap, I've realized (in my head) she is much better suited in this AU, as this is a Pietro/OC story (with small parts of Cap/Black Widow because they're my OTP). This story is rated M for mature content, such as sex, violence, death, language, etc. I try not to ever be too vulgar, but also don't believe in censorship. This story deals with the serious issues of a fatal medical condition, so there's that. I do not own anyone, except Tilda and my ideas.

Chapter Three

A few days had gone by in the Avengers facility. Not much really had happened. Tilda had heard some rumors floating around, particularly from Sam Wilson; about some new guy around who liked to call himself... _Antman?_ The nicknames these superheroes gave themselves were just getting stranger everyday.

Tilda found herself hooked up to a monitoring system, as Bruce had her gently jogging on a treadmill. Being under the supervision of medical physicians was something she was used to. When you were an experiment yourself, laboratory visits were a normal occurrence. If there was something she had come to know about scientists; they were never shy about their curiosity about how far they could push a human's capabilities.

"Do you want to take a break?" Bruce asked, a tablet showing her vital signs in hand.

The tattooed agent gave a small shrug, slowing down until coming to a complete stop. Bruce moved forward to help with removing the cords off of Tilda's torso. As comfortable as she seemed to be around him, the doctor could see her green eyes constantly watched his hands, cautious about how relaxed she chose to be with what he was doing.

A small knock against the wall turned both heads towards the direction, Tilda squaring her shoulders when seeing it was Pietro. They hadn't spoken since that incident at the cafeteria - purposely keeping her distance from him. If he was going to be that touchy and forward, she didn't much feel like having him around.

"Pietro, you're early." Bruce pointed out, looking down at his watch.

Awkwardly shrugging, he leaned to one side while explaining, "Oh, I am? I did not know, I could leave. Oh, hello, Tilda, I no see you there."

Seeing the tension clear between the two, Bruce shifted awkwardly and made up some excuse that he needed to step out for a moment. The doctor never did too well in uncomfortable situations - which, could have been a good reason as to why he and Natasha never worked out. It just felt too strange and he didn't want to remain in that kind of environment - it didn't bode well for his condition.

With just the two alone, Tilda reached for her zip up sweater and pulled it on herself. She was giving him the cold shoulder and perhaps Pietro was imagining it, but all the sharp objects in the room suddenly seemed to be turned on him. First his sister, now this woman. He sincerely hoped they didn't get anyone else who could control things with their minds.

"Tilda, I meant no harm," Pietro finally came out with it, "I understand perhaps, you do not like being touched. It..brings up bad memories. I was not aware. But, I would not hurt you - I am, ugh...harmless, like puppy."

Tilda wanted to snap at him. Wanted to yell and tell him that his apology was half-assed and not accepted. She wanted to tell him he had no idea about the bad memories that plagued her. How she was just a doomed soul on death row, waiting for whenever her body decided to give out on her. How instead of being brought up by loving parents, hers only brought her into this world to be an experiment. How there was no physical contact with them, except for the trials they put her through.

But, Pietro was so clueless and sincere that she felt she couldn't be mad at him. Even though every instinct in her was telling her to be. Sighing, Tilda stuck her hands in her sweater pockets and pointed out, "Well, with that mop on top of your head, you look like a puppy."

A wide grin pulled at Pietro's mouth, his eyes glimmering in gratitude of her forgiveness. Excitedly stepping forward, he offered, "This good. It's no fun being mad, yes? You're done here? Maybe we can go for walk - it is beautiful out. Or swim. Or maybe that is inappropriate? You tell me."

Tilda was beginning to think he was called the speedster for some other reason; his accent making it a little difficult for her to understand. But, it was adorable at the same time, so she shrugged, "I needed new boots. Does going shopping sound appealing to you?"

"Yes! I need new clothes as well. I will go get my wallet."

Before Tilda was able to say anything, Pietro was gone in a flash - a streak of blue and silver left in his wake. Only about three seconds had passed, before he was back in front of her with a wallet in hand. She had to say, superspeed did sound like a pretty cool ability - she wondered if Hydra had specifically given him that power, or it just happened to be what transpired?

Reluctant to burst his bubble, Tilda smirked, "That's great...but, I have to get my wallet."

* * *

"So, how's the ticking time bomb?"

It had been late into the night that Tony Stark decided to grace Bruce Banner with his presence. After having seen that Pietro and Tilda had left his lab, the doctor had gone back to his safe place to continue his work. He was pretty sure the two had made up; he hoped at least. Tensions amongst the Avengers wasn't exactly an ideal situations; considering they all had unique set of skills and the Hulk could emerge if poked at enough.

Groaning, Bruce looked up from his microscope and took off his glasses, "You know that's very insensitive."

Tony shrugged, bouncing a stress ball back and forth between his hands, "Come on, I've done the reading - girl is on a fast track to nowhere's land. How's her cells looking?"

"Not good," Bruce sighed, "Brain function is still at full capacity, but her body can't hold her. I think those scientists were wrong for giving her ten years...I don't even want to say how long. Could be that, could be in a month. How am I going to tell her that?"

With a shrug, Tony began fooling around with a few screens in the lab while commenting, "She seems okay with it."

"Who is really okay with dying? Even if we say we are - there's always a part of us that isn't."

"Hey, she has it good here. Free meals, big swimming pool, great scenery. Great place to spend your last few years in, and all she has to deal with is a few nosebleeds." The man behind Ironman waved off. It would be easy to think that Tony didn't have a heart, but Bruce knew that talking like he didn't care about others was the only way he could deal with all the insecurities he had.

Pushing the rolling chair away from the table, Bruce sighed and explained, "For now she has nosebleeds, but as she breaks down it will get much worse. Loss of eyesight, organs shutting down - it's going to be an extremely painful death."

Tony let out a small snort, while leaning against one of the tables, "Guess Stygar isn't getting _father of the year_ award. Hey, why does Fury care so much that we look into this?"

"Because no other scientist has been able to extend her life any further or been able to cure her," Standing up, Bruce tried to reason, "Because it's the right thing to do, Tony. We are different. In every way to normal society. And we have done a lot of good, but we have also done a _lot_ of bad. Property damage alone, look at the twins. If it weren't for you, their parents wouldn't have died and they wouldn't have volunteered themselves for some crazed Hydra experiment. Because of us, Ultron existed. There is a lot of collateral damage on our heads. This is our chance to help someone, without _any_ outside risks."

It was important for Bruce to feel helpful. As much as the Hulk was an asset, he knew that the green monster was unpredictable. During their time with the Ultron problems, they destroyed a lot. Sure, they possibly saved the world, but for many people, whose houses they damaged, their worlds would never be the same. It didn't matter that this girl would probably die and it would weigh heavy on the scientist's conscious. He just needed to feel useful.

And because Tony had come to think of Bruce as one of his closest friends, he nodded, "Alright, let's get cracking, shall we? I haven't had a good project in a while - hopefully this one won't go crazy and try to kill some small country near Russia."

"Your optimism is always welcomed, Tony."

* * *

"Those boots, very badass."

After an actually very enjoyable shopping spree, Pietro and Tilda walked back into the Avengers facility. The Maximoff twin was referring to her steel toed boots, adding, "Though, it would be bad if there was someone with the ability to control metal."

Tilda held her shopping bag over her shoulder, looking at him oddly, "There's no one with an ability like that."

"No one that we know. But, up till year ago, no one knew someone like my abilities existed." Pietro argued.

With a hand on her hip, the telekinetic nodded, "Okay, fair point, Speedy. I still like them though. And it's good you got shoes that weren't sneakers."

Proudly looking down at his new shoes, Pietro grinned, "Nice, right? Sleek. Will really attract the ladies, no?"

"I think that funny little accent of yours might do the trick."

Though it came off faintly critical, Pietro could tell Tilda was attempting to kid around. The Sokovian smiled at her, happy they were getting to know each other. Growing up, he admittedly did not have many friends. There were always people around, whom he worked with on not so respectable jobs, but no one really who he could call _friend._ Just Wanda, who was more than good enough. But, this was also good. He was happy.

"Shopping, Tilda?" Natasha smirked, coming up to the duo.

Shrugging, Tilda smirked, "I am a woman, right? That's what that species does?"

Natasha's full lips pulled up into a smile, her sultry voice cooing, "For steel toed boots - of course."

"For our slumber parties of course." Tilda laughed sarcastically.

Pietro Maximoff was a nice person. Though hotheaded at times, he was kind and welcoming. But, he had never really spent one on one time with anyone else other than his sister and maybe Clint. So, Natasha was intrigued to see that the two had seemingly spent the afternoon together. She was even more so tickled to see that Quicksilver's eyes had not moved away from looking at Tilda the whole time.

Finally noticing Natasha smirking knowingly at him, Pietro cleared his throat, "I should be getting going, I am starving. So much walking around today. My stomach," He held his abdomen, "I will see you later, Beruska."

Before he was able to speed off, Tilda put up a hand, "Whoa, what does _beruska_ mean?"

"It is a term for endearment," The Black Widow teased, "For a dainty flower."

Eyes practically cutting Pietro, Tilda yelled, "I am not a dainty flower!"

Scared, Pietro held his hands up and looked desperately at Natasha, "No, no, it does not mean dainty flower. It means _ladybug,_ " Pointing to a part on her inner bicep, he referred to the tattoo she had, "See? I saw it amongst the rest of the sleeve. Perhaps you like them, I thought it was good nickname. I no use it again."

Truthfully, she hadn't been angry. Tilda knew Natasha had a flair for teasing and that she was using her knowledge of the Slavic languages to yank her chain. It probably seemed strange for someone who was so heavily inked to have something like ladybug tattooed on her, which was most of the reason why she had it on her inner bicep. It was only for her. To remind her of how she used to look at them as a young girl and admire how beautiful she thought they were. How beautiful she had wanted to be. Pietro had noticed it and even decided to give her a nickname because of it - for some reason she found that sweet.

"Okay, you're off the hook," Tilda told him, relieving Pietro, as she turned towards Natasha, "You and I are going to have a talk."

Smirking, Natasha joked, "I'm shaking. Want to go spare?"

Tilda nodded, before turning to wave at Pietro. As the two women walked away, the Maximoff let out the breath he had been holding. Being friends with the telekinetic was going to be a rollercoaster, he could already tell. But, as short fused as she seemed to be at times, he wanted to get to know her more. Wanted to know what made her tick. Hopefully, it wouldn't mean getting his head cut off in the end.


	4. Chapter 4

TC Stark: It is so much fun writing this story, I have to tell you. I really am glad it's getting some recognition and I hope I continue to do well by you guys! I am sorry that I made tony a little too harsh, I hadn't meant for him to come off that way. I hope I get everyone's personality down in this one! Just a fun chapter, enjoy!

Disclaimer: If anyone has read my "Whatever Time We Have Left" story, I am reusing Tilda. I found with that story that I never developed her properly, so I'm revamping her - giving her a fresh coat of wax and throwing her into this story. Also, as much as I love the Cap, I've realized (in my head) she is much better suited in this AU, as this is a Pietro/OC story (with small parts of Cap/Black Widow because they're my OTP). This story is rated M for mature content, such as sex, violence, death, language, etc. I try not to ever be too vulgar, but also don't believe in censorship. This story deals with the serious issues of a fatal medical condition, so there's that. I do not own anyone, except Tilda and my ideas.

Chapter Four

Nosebleeds.

Tilda Stygar had been getting nosebleeds for as long as she could remember. They had been especially heavy when the experiments had began. Her mother had assured her it was only a side effect to her body getting used to all the serum that was pumping into her. Looking back, she wasn't sure if the woman had been telling her that out of motherly nurture, or if it would make the scientific process easier with a young girl not complaining.

It was a bit frustrating that it was happening only a few minutes before they were to take a jet to New York City. Tony Stark still owned the Avengers tower in the city and was throwing one of his very expensive, very exclusive parties because apparently Thor was in town. Being new and technically not really part of the team, she had thought about not going, but Pietro had begged her to. She supposed being social wasn't one of her strong suits, but it was good to try new things?

Apparently, you were also supposed to dress nice to one of Stark's parties. Tilda really had never dressed up. Not only was she an experiment, but she was an agent. Leather pants, holsters, and fingerless gloves were a part of her everyday attire. Any different was out of her comfort zone.

Dressing nice to her was a long gray top, red skinny jeans, boots - not her steel toed ones - and a leather jacket with studs on the collar and cuffs. She felt ridiculous. Even this felt like too much effort, because now she was self-conscious if this was even something to wear at a ritzy party. At least her orange hair was straight down, right?

Tilda was holding her head up, with a tissue to her nose, when there was a knock on the door. Groaning, she kept applying pressure to her nostrils as she walked over to the door to see Pietro on the other side. He was wearing a light blue button down shirt, with the sleeves rolled up a quarter up, with a very nice pair of pants on. And his normally wild curly hair was held back with a headband, which he was rocking very well.

Instantly, Pietro was alarmed, "Tilda, what's wrong?"

Snorting, Tilda headed back into the room and tiredly threw the napkin into the trash, "Just a nosebleed. Been getting them forever."

"Maybe we should take you to doctor?"

Tilda waved Pietro off while reaching for the pack of cigarettes resting of her coffee table, "They know about them. Side effect of the experiments. Don't stress it. Least of my worries."

Pietro didn't say anything, as Tilda seemed pretty adamant that she didn't want the issue pressed. Though the telekinetic didn't make any attempt to hide what was wrong with her, he didn't know. All he knew was that she had special powers, but they weren't at the point in their friendship where she felt the need to bring it up.

"Okay...but, we need to go or else we miss jet. Wanda always getting on my ass for being late," Pietro stuck his hands in his pocket and sulked slightly, "And you know cigarettes are not good for you."

"Yea, yea, yea."

* * *

Tony Stark did not skimp out when it came to a party. Not that he really did anything in his life half-assed, but Jesus. Top shelf booze, waitresses passing around both cocktails and fancy Hors D'oeuvres, and what looked like the most beautiful crowd of people Tilda has ever seen. Surely, he was paying these people to be there.

Thor was a monument of a man. 6'5" at least, with blonde hair that practically reached his torso - Tilda was surprised to see him in clothing that didn't look like some Nordic warrior armor. Perhaps seeing a human had made him more aware of Earth culture, though his outfit did remind her of something medieval.

Looking around, Tilda also saw all the women she worked with were in dresses. Wanda, Maria Hill, even Natasha Romanoff - all looking stunning. As an agent, they weren't meant to be works of art. They were there to fight - it didn't matter their gender; there was a mission at hand. As a woman in that field, everything was so one dimensional. You couldn't be feminine and a fighter at the same time.

Tilda saw how wrong that thinking was.

And how underdressed she was.

Hands stuck in her pockets, Tilda headed over to the large bar and propped up on the stool. Ordering a Gin & Tonic, the orange haired woman looked up at the ceiling and waited for her beverage to arrive. There were so many people around, everyone was socializing, and she had no idea what to do.

"So, what's the deal with her?" Off on another side of the party, Steve Rogers stood adjacent to Natasha.

The Black Widow was casually sitting on the arm of a couch sectioned in one corner of the room, having just plucked a bacon wrapped shrimp from a waiter. Natasha was feeling confident and frankly, very sexy. The Cap tried to be subtle about it, but his eyes kept being drawn to her legs, though he always looked away when she noticed. The redhead smirked, he should have known by now how much she enjoyed it.

After popping the Hors D'oeuvre in her mouth, Natasha shrugged, "You've met Tilda."

"I know, but...I mean, good, bad? Your situation?"

"You mean ex-KGB?" The Black Widow quirked an eyebrow, shaking her head, "No. None of that. Once Tilda's father died, SHIELD swooped in and got her. She's been working for Fury this whole time, in case you're wondering if she's Hydra."

Arms folded, Steve shook his head, "I trust your judgment. I just...feel bad. I volunteered for this serum, she didn't. I had great parents - can't imagine treating a child like that."

Pursing her lips, Natasha's eyes flicked downwards as she quietly mumbled, "Not everyone is so fortunate."

Steve's focused was brought back to the Black Widow, knowing they were no longer talking about Tilda Stygar. Looking around, the Captain put his body in between Natasha and the rest of the party, blocking their actions. His hand reached down and took hers, gently rubbing his thumb along her fingers.

Trying to hide her smile, Natasha spoke in a low tone, "You're making me sappy, Rogers."

"I won't tell anyone." Steve smiled back, feeling her squeeze his hand.

Unaware of the lovers, Tilda excused herself to step onto the balcony of the floor to have a cigarette. It may have been a bad habit, but considering she had a death sentence on her head, smoking didn't seem so bad. Besides, the only real movies she had ever seen growing up were old ones and Hollywood actors made it look so alluring.

Just as she was about to light her cigarette, though; a dash of blue and silver flashed before her eyes. Shocked, Tilda looked down and saw that her cigarette was no longer in her hand, rather Pietro seemed to be holding it and then crushing the stick under his shoe. She supposed that's why he was called Quicksilver - she hadn't even seen him coming.

Finally realizing the situation, Tilda placed her hands on her hips and growled, "Pietro."

"No, these are bad for you, you shouldn't be smoking." Pietro waved his finger at her, seriously glaring down at the woman.

With a big sigh, Tilda folded her arms and demanded, "Give me my pack of cigarettes. I know you took those as well."

Tucking his hand into the pocket where her pack was hidden, the Sokovian shook his head, "No. It is not good for your health. Smoking is very bad. My grandfather, he got cancer from so much smoking. They had to cut off fingers, it was not pretty. Wanda and I, we were scared of him, even if he was good man."

There was a part of Tilda who wanted to throw a small fit over being denied her right to smoke. It wasn't anyone's decision other than her own and it quite annoyed her when people thought they could just simply butt in. Unfortunately, Pietro seemed so genuinely concerned and she supposed a good grandpa dying of cancer story usually subsided the anger.

Holding her hand out, Tilda reasoned with him, "If you give me the cigarette pack back, I'll try to set you up with the blonde in there who has been eying you all night."

For a second, Pietro seemed distracted with the fact that someone had been oogling him, before getting back to the subject at hand, "No, beruska, you cannot buy me with pretty women. Besides, I would much rather sit here and talk to you."

"Why?"

"Too many women in there, any hungry. I know it's hard to believe, but I am not the _man whore_ most think I am."

Tilda sighed and sat down, crossing her legs as it seemed she was not getting what she wanted. Resting her chin on her fist, she asked, "Why not? Why don't you go and try to pick up someone?"

Shrugging, Pietro leaned back against the railing while explaining, "One night stands, they're nice. You meet someone, you attracted to them, fun night, and then nothing. But, exactly. Nothing. Who do I hold? Who do I talk to? If I want to let out my sexual frustrations, I take care of it myself. I get bored of affairs. Maybe I'm growing up."

"I'll have to ask Wanda." Tilda teased.

Blushing, the speedster groaned, "Please don't. She may not paint the best picture; there are some things she will never let me live down."

It was kind of cute seeing Pietro actually behaving shyly. Being a good looking man, she assumed someone like him would accept anyone throwing themselves at him. Though, Steve Rogers was equally as good looking and as far as she knew, he seemed the type to be utterly oblivious of when a person was flirting with him.

Their talk distracted Pietro, as the pack of cigarettes moved out of his pocket and flew into Tilda's hand. The telekinetic smirked at a gawking Quicksilver, taking one out and finally lighting it. She gave him an almost devious smile, closing her eyes and enjoying every second of the first inhale.

"That was very sneaky." Pietro shook his finger at her, but ultimately smiled. In the short time he knew Tilda, she didn't seem to be one for playfulness - he was happy she was opening up to him.

Some hours had gone by, the party seemingly picking up instead of slowing down. With Pietro, Tilda joined a small group forming of the Cap, Sam Wilson, Natasha, and Bruce. Clint wasn't at the party, spending time with his wife and kids. As much fun as he had, he was a family man and his hard drinking days were over.

"So, Quicksilver," Sam laughed, obviously a little tipsy as he leaned forward, "Out of you and the Cap, who do you think can drink more."

 _Oh God_ Steve rolled his eyes and mouthed, as Pietro smirked arrogantly, "Even without my metabolism, I could drink this old man under the table."

"I don't think you want to test that, son," Steve chuckled, holding his hand up, "I have a _very high_ tolerance."

That was how Pietro ended up ordering almost four dozen shots from a nearby waitress, Thor chuckling as he closed into the group, "Are we testing this out again?"

"Newbie wasn't here to learn the first time." Natasha snickered, leaning comfortably into the couch.

The shots were lined up on the table in the middle of them, Pietro turning to Tilda and asking, "You want in?"

Tilda held her hands up and defended, "Regular metabolism here. You boys have fun."

Pietro then turned around and quickly guzzled down twenty of the shots, taking them at an impressively rapid rate. He slammed down the last glass in a display of masculinity, challengingly folding his arms and looking over at the Captain. Steve Rogers simply rolled his eyes and spoke, "You better take those last twenty, we'll be here all night waiting for me to get drunk."

Deciding to interject, Thor pulled out a flask, "Allow me to settle this. You all share the shots. Pietro, try some of this."

Sam reached out to begin passing the shots around, while Pietro took the flask from Thor and gave a sniff, "It seems like gasoline. This best you can do? I am Sokovian, Thunder God."

It hadn't taken more than five minutes for Pietro to be slumped over, passed out from the intensity of the Asgardian liquor. The Cap and Thor were laughing amongst themselves, both casually sipping the drink. That had been the young guy's problem, he had practically guzzled down the whole flask - thinking he could handle it.

"He better not puke." Tony pointed out, casually sauntering over with a hand tucked into his pocket.

Looking at his watch, Bruce deduced, "He'll probably sober up soon. Intoxication is short lived, his metabolism burns it all out."

"Feel bad for you boys," Natasha mused, taking a sip of her beer, "You're expensive dates."

"What did he do?" Wanda's sharp voice asked, as she and The Vision joined the group.

"Tried to show up Thor." Tilda snorted, with a hint of amusement in her voice.

The female Maximoff rolled her eyes, as Vision gently rubbed her shoulders. now that they were rebel activists against a fascist regime, Pietro had really allowed himself to have the fun that they weren't really ever able to have. She didn't want to be too hard on him - they hadn't had an easy life, but he didn't need to make an ass out of himself.

Pietro groaned, picking himself up as his system was slowly burning off the alcohol. Blinking his eyes, he looked around and pointed, "Is there two of you, Tilda?"


	5. Chapter 5

TC Stark: Honestly, I am having such an amazing time writing this! Pietro is great to flesh out and I really hope everyone likes Tilda. I have decided that this is definitely a love story. God, I haven't really written one in forever, but it feels good. Quicksilver is just one of those characters - he's so well rounded. Granted, this is definitely angsty, but you can't have a great story without some angst, right? lol So, if everyone could please, please submit a review and let me know what you think, I'd love you all forever ^^ Not that I don't already!

Disclaimer: If anyone has read my "Whatever Time We Have Left" story, I am reusing Tilda. I found with that story that I never developed her properly, so I'm revamping her - giving her a fresh coat of wax and throwing her into this story. Also, as much as I love the Cap, I've realized (in my head) she is much better suited in this AU, as this is a Pietro/OC story (with small parts of Cap/Black Widow because they're my OTP). This story is rated M for mature content, such as sex, violence, death, language, etc. I try not to ever be too vulgar, but also don't believe in censorship. This story deals with the serious issues of a fatal medical condition, so there's that. I do not own anyone, except Tilda and my ideas.

Chapter Five

Poor Pietro had been very under the weather the next day. Even though his body had started recovering that night, he still slept well into that afternoon and had woken up with black circles under his eyes. Most everyone had been well into their daily routines, before he found himself down in the cafeteria trying to soak up the alcohol in his body.

Tilda had already worked out and showered when heading down to the cafeteria. As nice as the previous night had turned out to be, she was happy to be back in tactical gear and back in her comfort zone. She couldn't remember if there was ever a time she was in a dress, other than maybe medical gowns.

Amused, Tilda casually made her way over to Pietro and handed him a glass full of tomato juice, "Virgin Bloody Mary. _Should_ help. I think."

"Spasibo." Pietro grumbled, his accented voice groggy and muffled.

"Are you normally that competitive?" The agent stuck her hands in her pockets, straddling the chair to sit down on.

Shrugging, the Sokovian sheepishly admitted, "I got carried away. My twin and I, we didn't get off on the best foot with the Avengers. I think to...overcompensate."

As Pietro took the Virgin Bloody Mary, Tilda recommended, "Next time, maybe don't try to oneup an Asgardian."

"I will remember that."

A small chuckle hummed from her lips, as the telekinetic bowed her head down and stared at her feet. Tilda didn't know why she had the need to nurture Pietro through his hangover. It seemed he had a sister who usually did that, though she was caught up with her relationship with The Vision. Not that that was bad; they were all unique and she seemed to really like the enigma.

"My God! It's three already!?" Pietro exclaimed, holding his forehead, "I slept so long! What time did you wake up?"

"Seven."

Eyes wide, he gawked, "In the morning!?"

Smirking, Tilda teased, "Yes, Pietro, in the morning. Most adults like to start the day early."

"I am not adult, I am child." Pietro groaned, burying his head in his arms.

She rolled her eyes and looked off to the side. Tilda knew for a fact that Pietro was twenty-six, only a year older than herself. Mid-twenties were an odd age. In normal civilian society, half of that age bracket were off getting married and maybe having children, while the other half were still staying out until six in the morning partying and couldn't find their pants. They were young and old. Children and adults, all at the same time.

Moving her right foot side to side, Tilda cleared her throat before awkwardly proposing, "You know...I was looking online...and there's a Russian restaurant in the city...and...maybe...you would...like to go?"

Seeing Pietro lift his head up, Tilda quickly defended, "Not a date! I don't often go out with people - I don't have friends, so how do friends ask each other to...do things...without seeming like a date?"

Pietro could see how awkward Tilda was and he wouldn't disrespect her by making her feel any worse. He understood that she wouldn't have ever had the opportunity to have much social interactions with peers. Being experimented from a young age and then transferring to being a deadly agent, she was unsure of how the norm was.

Smiling, Pietro acted out, " _Pietro, you busy tonight?_ No, Tilda, I was going to watch TV or bug Wanda. _Want to grab a drink? There's a good Russian place in the city._ Hell yea! Let's go! See? Easy."

"And you won't misconstrue that as a date?"

"No. I think you covered that when you got mad at me touching your shoulder," Pietro mused, before adding, "Which, I completely respect. So, we go now?"

Tilda took a glance at her watch, "I have an appointment with Bruce in fifteen. We can leave after that."

Pietro thought to himself that Tilda went to the doctors a lot, but perhaps they were just meticulous. He remembered when he and Wanda had volunteered for their own experiments. Those moments were hard. Especially at first. Coming to terms with the changes in their bodies. It was enough to make him mad. Being separated from his sister. Hydra doctors constantly poking at them. He could relate.

* * *

Rather than using one of the jets or helicopters that were provided for them, Pietro and Tilda rented one of the cars at the Avengers facility since neither actually owned one. Even though the Sokovian didn't have a driver's license, he somehow talked the agent into letting him drive. Which, was a terrible mistake on her part, as he liked to drive as he ran - fast. Thank God for seatbelts.

They parked the car in a garage in New York City that was in the area of the restaurant, Tilda having never been happier to be on solid ground, "I was not bad." Pietro proclaimed.

Tilda simply shot him a look, before composing herself and guiding him forward. As usual, New York City was congested and loud. Being surrounded by such a dense population needed some getting used to. Sure, they had just been to Stark's tower, but that had been a direct route. Pietro wasn't used to such a crowded environment and the need to dash away was strong, but he repressed it for his friend.

The restaurant Tilda guided Pietro to was neither fancy nor dumpy. It looked like a mom and pop shop. Where locals could enjoy themselves and feel at home. It was crowded, but in a good way. People were laughing with each other; old men played cards as they were served their food, and he saw a few children helping out, who clearly were the owner's. It was good that it was a casual place, as neither of them were dressed up.

The young hostess guided them to a table in the corner, as a waitress placed a small plate of pickled cucumbers before them. Tilda had quickly ordered a glass of water, as Pietro asked for soda. His hand was reaching immediately for a pickle, as if feeling right at home in the place. There was none of that uncomfortable tension that she usually felt in new places. Though, somehow with him, she felt better.

"This is nice. Nice place," Pietro nodded, grinning happily, "You look a little uncomfortable though."

With a small shrug, Tilda waited for the waitress to set their drinks down and leave, before responding, "Not often used to places like this. Everyone seems so friendly. Not used to a family environment."

"I know your parents, but you never have anyone else? Uncles? Aunts? Grandparents?"

Tilda shrugged her shoulders, while giving a rueful smile, "If I do, I don't know about them. I know when my father was brought to trial, no one was there on his defense. Or even to show him support. I mean, it's not a big deal. Everyone has different upbringings. Mine could have been worse...sorry. This is inappropriate to talk about."

Leaning forward, Pietro assured her, "We are friends. We talk about anything. You never have to worry."

Anything Tilda would have said, was interrupted by the waitress coming to ask if they had made a decision. The agent didn't know much about Russian cuisine, so she ordered the kielbasa - as Pietro asked for something she couldn't even pronounce. Even though her father was Swedish, her mother had been American and their tests were done in the states. Besides a few Swedish words, some sentences in Spanish - she didn't know much else besides English.

"I have no idea what you just asked for." Tilda stated, once the server walked away.

" _Golubtsy._ It's ground beef and rice in cabbage. I also ordered borscht. It is beef and beet soup," Patting his stomach, the Sokovian winked, "I am growing boy you know."

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Tilda shook her head, "That sounds exhausting. Don't you have to eat almost all day long to keep up with your body?"

Pietro shook his head, "Not all day. I just eat big meals. Never feel satisfied. I used to cook for Wanda, did you know that?"

"No. I can't imagine you as a cook."

"No apron or anything," The Sokovian laughed, "But, when it just us two...I know we are twins, but I am twelve minutes older. I always felt responsible for Wanda. I needed to protect her. That also meant she did not go hungry. I did some bad things...to get food. I was not always... _Avenger._ "

Tilda knew he was using the Avenger title to describe a do gooder. Like a boyscout almost. But, the truth was they all had dark pasts. Natasha had been a former KGB agent, Clint was a master assassin, and she didn't have the cleanest rapsheet. In a way, they were all looking towards the Avengers initiative to help wipe away all the blood on their hands.

With a sip of her water, she asked, "So what, you were part of the Russian mob?"

"Sokovian. And no, not direct part. But, did work with them. Odd jobs. To make money. Anything to put roof over Wanda and my head. Selling drugs. Bouncer at mob clubs. I did not kill anyone though - I did not want violent jobs. And then Wanda came to me with experiment proposal. We did not know who...who Hydra even was, until we already too late into it." Pietro explained, his eyes staring outwards at nothing as he reminisced.

Lips thinned, as Tilda asked, "Did yours hurt?"

"Yes...I hated Wanda's screams...but, the men assured me. _Your sister stronger than you. Her powers...they will bring down the world,_ " Snorting, Pietro growled almost primal, "I only wanted to bring down Stark."

Pietro caught the venom in his mouth and apologized, as the waitress came with their food. He did not want to put a black cloud on his time with Tilda. While he had forgiven Stark, it was hard to let go of all those bitter feelings. Sixteen years of hatred did not go away after only one of being an Avenger.

Taking in the aroma, Pietro went to dive into his food. He didn't have the worst table manners, but Tilda could tell he was starving. She eyed the speedster, cutting into her own food. The soup was the first thing he tried, spooning the red liquid into his mouth and closing his eyes while savoring it.

Pietro wordlessly moved to the stuffed cabbage dish, doing the same thing as before. Once he took a long enough pause, he set his utensils down and sighed happily, "It is very good…" Ruefully smiling, the enhanced man's voice sounded distant, "Tastes like mom used to make…"

"Are you alright, Pietro?"

"May I hold your hand? Only for moment. I must say something." Pietro quickly asked, desperation in his eyes.

Stiffening, Tilda wanted to tell him no. Wanted to yell at him. How dare he be so forward. Did he think he could be nice for a week or so and then suddenly be inappropriate? But, the way he was looking at her made her think of some kicked puppy - eyes wide and Jesus, his lower lip jutting out in a pout.

Wordlessly nodding, Tilda jumped slightly when his hand came out to grab hers. Pietro quickly saw her apprehension, loosening his grip as he spoke, "Thank you, Tilda. Thank you for taking me here. You are good friend."

For a moment, Tilda forgot that Pietro was even holding her hand. The last few words struck a chord with her and she felt her chest tightening at the impact of what he said. Lips twitching into a sincere smile, she softly stated, "I've never had a friend before."

"Well, you have me. And Wanda - we come in pairs you know." Pietro grinned, letting go of her hand to go back to his meal. Not knowing Tilda was still smiling.

* * *

"Should we get ice cream?" Pietro asked, as they stepped out of the Russian restaurant. After that small moment, they had gotten back to eating. Tilda's food was delicious and it was clear the runner really enjoyed his dish. So much so that he had called over the owner to profusely thank him for bringing authentic food to America. Clearly, the man had a flare for the dramatic.

"Because ice cream goes so well after Russian food?" Tilda quirked an eyebrow up, though there was a hint of amusement to her question.

With a sheepish grin, Pietro shrugged, "Of course. My favorite is strawberry. What is yours?"

Arms folded, Tilda pondered as they strolled alongside the sidewalk, "Um...vanilla, I guess? I don't think I've ever thought about it."

"You don't think about it. It's something you taste and you go _mmm_ , and you know you keep wanting more."

Pietro didn't notice Tilda halting, looking over at him before picking back up. They were talking about ice cream, but the explanation gave her a sinking feeling and tugged at her insides. They had spent a whole day together. Just the two of them. And they had had a lot of fun. More fun than she had had in a really long time. If she ever really felt that much enjoyment before; and for the first time, she realize how depressing that was.

She also realized she was beginning to like Pietro more than a friend.


	6. Chapter 6

TC Stark: I am so incredibly happy about the attention this story is getting. Reading your reviews makes me beam and just want to do better! Please enjoy this chapter, as we get into fun angsty emotional stuff!

Disclaimer: If anyone has read my "Whatever Time We Have Left" story, I am reusing Tilda. I found with that story that I never developed her properly, so I'm revamping her - giving her a fresh coat of wax and throwing her into this story. Also, as much as I love the Cap, I've realized (in my head) she is much better suited in this AU, as this is a Pietro/OC story (with small parts of Cap/Black Widow because they're my OTP). This story is rated M for mature content, such as sex, violence, death, language, etc. I try not to ever be too vulgar, but also don't believe in censorship. This story deals with the serious issues of a fatal medical condition, so there's that. I do not own anyone, except Tilda and my ideas.

Chapter Six

Pietro had an odd routine in the morning. To anyone, it wouldn't be called a routine at all, but it felt familiar to him. First off, he always seemed to fall out of bed. Maybe it was a side effect of being an enhanced human being, but he always felt jittery in the mornings and his sense of his surroundings were warped, causing him to end up on the floor. That usually woke him up with a jolt.

Second was his routine shower. Pietro enjoyed the feel of water on his body. Sometimes, it would take him an hour just because he would stand there and let his skin prune. Of course, there was the matter of his morning wood and there were some days that taking care of that took longer than others.

The twins had been needed the day after Pietro's visit to New York City. It had saddened him slightly that he could not see Tilda, but he hoped she understood. Going to that Russian restaurant, getting ice cream; he had had such an amazing day. The Sokovian was thankful for gaining her as a friend.

After pulling a black hoodie on, Pietro pushed up the sleeves and exited his room. Steve Rogers was walking by at the time, giving Quicksilver a nod before going on his day. It could be argued that the Avengers base housed orphans who had nowhere else to go. The Cap was in a different time than his own, the twins had lost their family a long time ago, The Vision….was the Vision, and Natasha was a former KGB agent. But, out of a group of misfits, he truly felt accepted. Like they were a little family of their own.

Once Pietro stepped outside, he shielded his eyes from the sun. It was bright that day - making him rethink wearing a hoodie. The speedster was distracted, though; as he saw Tilda smoking. As much as he disliked her cigarette habit, he thought against running and tearing the death stick out of her hand.

Instead, he began trotting over and greeted happily, "Good morning, Tilda. See? It is only ten - much earlier than the other day. I don't think I'll be waking up as early as you, but I am getting better."

Tilda's body tensed at hearing Pietro. She was thankful for the Maximoff twins being busy the previous day, taking Quicksilver out of the environment and therefore making it easier for her to think. The Sokovian's happy go lucky attitude was grating on her and making it harder for her to breathe.

"Good for you," Tilda responded sharper than she would have wanted, flicking the cigarette away, "I have to go. See you later."

It was abrupt. It felt abrupt. Tilda felt like a bitch. It should have been easy brushing someone off. She had always been able to distance herself from others. But, for some reason, with Pietro it just felt wrong. Like she shouldn't do it. Like she didn't want to. It was all the more reason for her to put as much space in between them.

Tilda knew Pietro was confused and she was thankful that he didn't try to run after her. It felt like she couldn't breathe. Everything felt constricted and as soon as she got back inside, the telekinetic let out a gasp. Holding onto her neck, she frantically looked around to make sure no one saw her.

It may have seemed a little severe and over dramatic. Why should liking someone be feared? Every person experienced those kinds of feelings. They weren't abnormal. And yet, Tilda felt like some sort of freak. Like it was a disease she needed to eradicate. This was the first time for her and she needed to put a stop to it - before they both got hurt.

* * *

Pietro was confused. Befuddled really. It had been hours. And he could not find Tilda. She had not responded to his text message and the few times it seemed he would run into her in the hallway, she turned on her heels and ran the other way. Had he done something wrong? Had he offended her? They had had a good day, he was sure of that.

"Are you alright, Pietro?"

Pietro groaned, as he heard the calm voice ask him. Cracking his neck, Quicksilver turned his head to see The Vision walking towards him. With an exasperated sigh, the speedster warned, "I am busy today. I have no time for philosophy talks."

Curiously tilting his head, the android pointed out, "But, you are in dismay. Does it have to do with Tilda?"

"Why do you ask?" Pietro furrowed his eyebrows, "How do you know?"

"I saw her walking out of the gym, and she was not looking too happy."

As soon as The Vision told him that, Pietro ran off. The android shook his head gently. He was still trying to understand humans, especially Wanda's hot headed brother. He wasn't one for thinking before he acted. It was both a good quality and a bad one - for the outcomes were always random ones. But, as the female Maximoff told him, it was best not to try to sway him any other way.

Speeding towards the gym, Pietro spotted the woman in question and called out for her, "Tilda!"

Tilda was wiping the chalk off her hands, when Pietro ran over to her. Frowning, the telekinetic greeted, "Hello, Pietro."

"Tilda, is something wrong?" Pietro worriedly asked.

Poking her tongue against the inside of her cheek, the orange haired woman played off, "No. I'm just busy today."

"Would you like to get lunch?"

Tilda could hear the desperation and hopefulness in his voice, trying her best to ignore the tightening feeling in her chest, "Not today. I was going to shower. And rest today. Maybe tomorrow."

Frowning, Pietro nodded as he saw Tilda was already walking away, "Feel better."

* * *

Tomorrow had come and just like the day before, Tilda was ignoring him. Pietro was beginning to feel rejected. Not that she owed him anything, but he thought they were friends. They had laughed together, essentially broke bread together. Why was she being so cold to him now? He was beginning to take offense to it. If he had done something wrong, he would like for them to be adults and talk about it.

It was the reason why Pietro was at Tilda's door in the afternoon of the next day. There was a stiffness to his jaw, knocking on her door and moving back and forth in his spot. He knew she was there. He could see the shadows of her feet from underneath the entrance, frowning that she was clearly not letting him in.

"Tilda," He called out, careful to make sure no one was around, "Answer the door. _Please._ I don't like this cold shoulder. If I did something wrong, I want to know."

Finally, Tilda pulled the door open, a stern frown on her lips and a glare in her eyes, "Jesus, you don't give up, do you? Can't someone be busy? I don't remember signing anything that I had to be with you every day."

As much as Tilda's words hurt, Pietro knew that there was something else underneath and he pressed on, "This is not you. Just tell me. We're friends. You can trust me with whatever is bothering you."

"No I can't."

There was a seriousness in Tilda's eyes, but Pietro saw something much more. It occurred to him that she was trying very hard to remain strong. Firm. Cold. But, she could not remain robotic and when he looked deeper, he saw that there was a part of her that was...scared? And he didn't know why.

Shoulders relaxing, Pietro gently reassured, "You don't need to be scared, Tilda, you can tell me."

Fists clenching, the telekinetic looked away with a growl, "I...no, Pietro. No."

"Can I make a guess?" He asked, taking a step forward while giving her a kind smile, "I like you too, Tilda. There is nothing wrong with that. Is that what is bothering you? Because, I feel same way. This is good thing."

Frowning deeply, Tilda spat, "No it isn't. And you're wrong. Get out." She snarled, before slamming the door in his face.

Pietro knew something was wrong. He could feel it in his gut. Something was bothering her and preventing her from admitting her feelings. Whatever it was, he wanted to know so hopefully he could help Tilda. He knew she had a traumatic past, but hadn't they all? If anyone could help her through it, it could be him.

All the begging and knocking didn't do a thing, Tilda refusing to open the door. Pietro frowned and was beginning to feel ridiculous. While he didn't want to be intrusive, he also knew that he couldn't simply leave. Sighing, he reached down and grabbed the doorknob, using his super speed to jimmy the lock open.

Once he was in, Tilda gawked before snarling, "Do you not take no for an answer? _Get out!"_ She practically screamed, sending a wave of energy to push him out of the room.

The force was enough to knock Pietro on his ass, groaning while seeing Tilda hastily run out of the room. With a frown, Quicksilver easily sped in front of the telekinetic, pulling her into a corner so no one could see them. God forbid Wanda walked in, she would take it the wrong way and think her brother was trying to force the other woman into something she didn't want.

"Please," Pietro begged, "What is stopping you from liking me? I can understand if you did not have feelings for me, I would walk away. But, I know you do and I know something is stopping you. Let me help, Tilda."

"I'm dying!" Tilda finally shouted, tears filling her eyes.

The words were powerful enough to stop Pietro in his tracks. It should have probably been enough that Tilda was reduced to tears and shaking. He should have walked away right then and there. He should have respected that he pushed too far. He should have known he crossed a line when he made someone as guarded as she was, cry.

But, Pietro was not the type to just leave things be, and he asked in a soft tone of disbelief, "What are you talking about?"

Fists clenching, Tilda worked her jaw and responded, "Dying, Pietro. I'm dying. The...the experiments that was performed...all those years...it was too much. Too intense. Too often. Too much radiation. My cells are deteriorating. It's why I get nosebleeds all the time, I have bad headaches, I'm tired...I am dying."

Eyes wide, Pietro was at a loss for words as he pulled back slightly. Searching her face for some sort of hope, all he could find himself asking was, "That is why...you don't want to admit how you feel…?"

"Why would I want to even begin loving someone, when I have ten years at most?" Tilda bitterly asked, trying to steady her breathing.

"We will find cure."

With a bitter laugh, the telekinetic angrily explained, "There is _no_ cure. Why do you think I see the doctors every day? They monitor me _all the time._ And they all say the same thing. I am okay with dying. I have accepted it. I was only brought on this Earth for experimentation," Tears forming once again in her eyes, Tilda pointedly warned, "Don't you dare make me begin regretting my fate. I don't want to leave this world begging for mercy."

Feeling that sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach, Pietro refused to believe it, "No, we will find cure. This is the Avengers. You will not die. You are stronger than that."

"Just let me die in peace."

Tilda went to move, but Pietro caught her by the waist. She never realized how big his body was. How built and defined his muscles were. She wasn't sure if it was due to being enhanced or if he had always been this in shape, but his arm locked her against him and it was clear he was not letting her go.

Something happened to Tilda in that moment. Something odd that she had never experienced before. All her fight instincts were melting away and while she knew she should have been pushing him away, she found herself moving closer into the embrace. As if she were looking to him for...comfort. For support. Was she even gripping onto his shirt? What was happening to her in that moment?

Pietro held Tilda close to his body, allowing her to curl into his chest as he rested his chin against the top of her head. The Sokovian had a feeling that she had never cried on someone's shoulder before, if she had ever cried at all before. All he wanted to do was provide some kind of comfort for her, even if he wanted to weep along with her. So much of it he didn't understand, but it wasn't the time to be concerned about his needs.

"Why are you still here?" Tilda muttered, feeling scared and relieved in his arms, "Why waste your time with me?"

Trying to push back his own tears, Pietro gently kissed her face while whispering against her forehead, "I am selfish man. I want to be with you. Every minute of your life. I cannot let you go and I know that is unfair to you, but I do not want to bring regret to you. I only want you to live a full life...to experience what others experience...even...even if it is...not very long. You don't...have to give up on finding love."

Involuntarily leaning into the kiss on her forehead, Tilda quietly expressed, "This is so strange to me…"

"Strange can be good. I will be good to you."

"That's what I'm afraid of."

Pietro frowned, brushing her hair back while tilting her head up to him. Everything inside of Tilda was telling her to push him away. To resort back to being aggressive. To running. But, there was a comfort she found in his arms that she had never found before. A need to be held that she didn't previously believe existed in her. Somehow, held against the Sokovian, she felt safe. When had feeling that way become a good thing?

There was a small nod. Pietro didn't know if it was Tilda accepting the truth of how she felt, or if she was telling him yes. Either way, he took it as a good sign and cupped her cheeks affectionately. A small whine escaped her lips, feeling as if she were on the edge of a ledge ready to jump off. Though, admittedly, she would view that as a normal day on the job. This was much more frightening.

Slowly, Tilda felt Pietro's lips touch her own. Subconsciously, she gently flinched back, but upon remembering that he was not a threat, she moved back into him. The telekinetic let the buff man pull her closer, her neck craned back as her mouth was practically exposed for him to do whatever he wanted with it.

She could feel his finger slipping into her orange hair, gently holding her in place as his mouth once again pressed against hers. Tilda felt sappy; she had just been crying. There was a big dramatic reveal. Perhaps all those old movies had influenced her, because surely she had seen this same scene play a thousand times on scene.

But, there was nothing sappy or outplayed when it was in real life. In reality, a kiss like this one felt comforting. Warm. It was much more than just two body parts pressed against each other. Within the spectrum of their connection, Tilda felt relaxed and at peace. Even if she was a little unsure of what to do, Pietro was perfect at guiding her through it. The man was gentle, capturing her lower lip before remaining firm against her mouth - not wanting to overstep any boundaries this fast.

With a deep sigh from both parties, Pietro pulled slowly away from her. Their lips remained touching for as long as they could, Tilda whining gently when she finally felt air hitting her skin where he once was. It may have been a small kiss, but to her it felt monumental. As if they had entered a room that now there was no escape from. There was only moving forward, no going back.

But, in the mean time, they could just stand still, "Was that alright?" Pietro gently asked.

Tilda hadn't realized she was in fact smiling, "Yes...yes that was."

"I like seeing you smile."

With a small snort, Tilda subconsciously lifted her hands to touch the large biceps on his arms, "I'm sorry...if I was overly dramatic."

"It's okay, I am dramatic too," Pietro smiled, affectionately stroking her cheek. Sokovians were actually very touchy people and he hoped that he was not pushing his luck. But, she didn't seem to mind, "Perhaps we should get out of this corner? We could perhaps get something to eat in cafeteria?"

Feeling his hand slip into hers, Tilda looked down for a second before squeezing his fingers and nodding, "That would be nice."


	7. Chapter 7

TC Stark: Thank you again everyone!

Disclaimer: If anyone has read my "Whatever Time We Have Left" story, I am reusing Tilda. I found with that story that I never developed her properly, so I'm revamping her - giving her a fresh coat of wax and throwing her into this story. Also, as much as I love the Cap, I've realized (in my head) she is much better suited in this AU, as this is a Pietro/OC story (with small parts of Cap/Black Widow because they're my OTP). This story is rated M for mature content, such as sex, violence, death, language, etc. I try not to ever be too vulgar, but also don't believe in censorship. This story deals with the serious issues of a fatal medical condition, so there's that. I do not own anyone, except Tilda and my ideas.

Chapter Seven

Bruce had been working on his computer, when Pietro suddenly marched into the lab the next day. There was an angry expression on the runner's face, as the doctor pushed away from the desk and looked around - unsure of what he did wrong, "Ugh...can I help you, Pietro?"

"You fix her. Now."

Confused, Bruce asked, "Who?"

Threateningly stepping before the man, Pietro demanded, "Tilda. She told me what is wrong with her. Stop playing games and get off your ass. Help her."

It would have been easy for Banner to get angry. Pietro's chest was puffed out and his eyes were bearing down. Instead, the doctor sighed and stood up, removing his glasses as he did so, "Pietro...please...understand when I say, I am trying. We _all_ are trying. Dr. Stygar was not a careful man and he played fast and loose with his daughter. I can see that you like her and, she's fond of you. But, you need to understand something."

Stepping closer, Bruce tried his best to make sure he got through to Pietro, while also being stark and sensitive, "Tilda _is_ going to die. There is no cure. Not that we know of. And if you're looking to start a relationship with her, you need to know this. Now, it can be ten, five, or even one year. And...it's going to be ugly...she will shut down. You need to be prepared for that."

There was a serious tone to Bruce's words and Pietro found all his anger diminishing. It instead was replaced with a frown; an upset feeling bubbling inside of him. None of it truly made sense to him. They were all enhanced in some way. They were able to do things ordinary humans were not able to. He couldn't grasp that there was no solution to Tilda's situation; surely there had to be an answer.

"I'm sorry, Pietro, it's just...reality." Bruce apologized gently.

Attempting to remain stoic, Pietro gulped dryly while proclaiming, "Then I will make her final years the best ones. It will not change how I love her."

Bruce wished there was some way to slow down Tilda's death sentence. It had only been a few months, but Pietro clearly cared deeply about the telekinetic. The doctor didn't know if his general nature was to love intensely and fast, or if it was because time was of the essence, but what he did know, was he would be loyal and do right by her.

Which, would probably make her dying all the harder for both of them.

* * *

"So, you are dating my brother now."

Tilda hated chess. To her, it was boring and time consuming. But, he father had forced her into the game at a young age. Not only to use her mind in the sense of making sure she was sharp, but also to always move the pieces with her powers. There were so many things she was prevented to use her hands for and she certainly didn't want her arms tied behind her back like he did once…

Still, Tilda found herself in a pseudo rec room, playing chess when suddenly one of the opposing pieces turned red and moved on it's own. Considering Wanda and she had similar powers, you would think they would interact more, but truthfully they didn't. There wasn't anything she had against the female Maximoff, she was just usually preoccupied. Sometimes, she couldn't help, but think her father would have loved to have the two together. To see who could outdo the other.

Sitting back in her seat, Tilda watched as Wanda made her way around the other side of the table and sat down. The chess pieces reminded the telepathic of her first few weeks in Strucker's division. How he would give her objects, such as building blocks, to practice her skills with. It was like being reborn, having to be taught everything all over again, only in a much different way than before.

"Is that what it's called?" Tilda lightly snorted, reaching out to gingerly play with the Queen, "I'm twenty-five. Most women my age have had…experiences with dating. I haven't. Sure Pietro will come to regret this."

Red energy moved all the pieces on the board back to their original spots, as if wanting a match between the two, "Pietro can be messy, you should know that."

Tilda looked curiously at Wanda, seeing that she was going to be the one to make the first move, "Why are you telling me this?"

"He also snores at night. At times, he can be stubborn. And he does not have the best table manners," She continued without being asked, adding finally, "But, he also is kindest man I know. Generous. Loyal. He does not do things he does not want, and he never has any ulterior motive. So...if Pietro wants to be with you, he already knows about who you are and he accepts that. You do not need to worry that he will become frustrated with you," With a final tutt, Wanda smirked, "And, if he does, I smack him upside head."

Every word Wanda spoke swam inside Tilda's mind, finding home within her brain so she could truly think it over. It was obvious the twin was trying to tell her that the speedster was not the kind of man to only be nice, to get something in return. To trust that when he said he wanted to be with her, that he truly did. It was strange and comforting at the same time, even if it was new to her to have a conversation about dating someone with their sister.

"So...where's my _don't hurt him_ speech?"

Smirking, Wanda teased, "I look inside your head already. I know you have no ill intention."

* * *

On top of the Avenger's base having a track outside that surround the building, it also had an underground course that Pietro frequented. Agents from the former SHIELD used the aboveground area, but it was those who were part of the group that used the more hidden away area. It allowed them to freely use their powers, without the threat of paparazzi catching them on camera.

As Pietro jogged to a stop after his 200th lap, Tilda came up to the man with a bottle of Gatorade, "Wow, they don't call you Quicksilver for nothing."

"I could go faster. But, I don't want to show off," The Sokovian smirked in a playfully smug way, "Sometimes the Captain comes down here. He can run fast, but not as fast as me. I try to be faster though. I do not want to be shot again."

Tilda frowned slightly at that, but decided to take the opportunity and use it to play around, "If I had been there, you wouldn't have been."

"Oh?"

"I can stop a bullet."

Arms folded, Pietro was beginning to sense they were approaching a challenge, "Oh, can you? I know you have strong powers, Tilda, but a bullet is very fast."

Tilda tilted her head, slightly confused. If anything, she would have thought he would be concerned or something along those lines. Instead, he was playful about it and joking around with her. Was this what it meant to be part of a couple? Was accepting challenges something two people did together?

An arrogant smirk then crossed Tilda's lips, as she reached down to her thigh holster and took out her Glock 17. Pietro was used to being around guns. Not just due to his association with Hydra, but long before that. Working for the Sokovian mob, associating with Russians, and just everyday civilians, firearms was something he was no stranger to.

After Tilda cocked the gun, she handed it to Pietro. Quicksilver stared strangely at the weapon, as the agent stepped back. She continued until she was about ten feet away, opening her arms and welcoming, "Go ahead."

"What!?"

"Pull the trigger. I'll show you."

Pietro gawked. She could not possibly ask him to willingly aim a gun and shoot it at the woman he had just professed his feelings to. He wasn't sure if it was because she was so confident that she could stop the bullet, or her lack of value for her own life that made her fast and loose. But, something about it got his own adrenaline pumping and he decided to go along with this crazy idea.

Holding the gun up, Pietro pointed out, "This is very strange, but I like it."

Before Tilda could blink, Pietro aimed and pulled the trigger. Time slowed down temporarily, as the agent put her hand up. The bullet was speeding towards her and yet, when it came close to her palm, it stopped. As if there was some force field, it could not penetrate that barrier that she had put up.

Pietro watched at the bullet fell to the ground - Tilda unscathed. Tucking the gun in the waistband of his pants, the Sokovian jogged over to check the telekinetic over. Seeing that she indeed wasn't hit, he pulled back and chuckled almost nervously, scratching the back of his head.

"You really did stop the bullet!"

"You didn't see that coming?" Tilda mischievously smirked, arms folded.

"Hey, that's my line," Pietro playfully scolded, "You know, you are quite the devious one when you open up. Now, I am scared."

Snorting, the orange haired woman warned, "Maybe you should be."

As she began to walk away, the Sokovian followed after her and proposed, "So, now we have that arm wrestling match, yes?"

* * *

"I do not like apples."

Tilda and Pietro had ended up at a nearby diner - the runner deciding he really needed a strawberry milkshake. The man was clearly a fan of ice cream and he insisted that the Avengers facility wasn't perfect because they didn't provide any. Not that the agent minded; it was nice getting out _of the house,_ so to speak.

Unfortunately, the pie of the day at the dinner was apple pie and Pietro was not having any of it, "You don't maybe have blueberry pie? Blueberries in season, I think."

The waitress shook her head and walked away, as the Sokovian sulked. Tilda smiled gently at how...cute he looked when pouting. Had she actually had those thoughts? It was the first time she even felt that way about someone, but Pietro was definitely the type to grow on you - probably why Clint had come to like him so much.

"You're in America and apple pies are as American as they get." Tilda pointed out.

Grumbling, he explained, "I no like apple texture. Never liked apples. Do you like apples?"

Tilda shrugged, "I don't think I've ever really liked them. But, I ate them. Doesn't every parent try to get their kids to eat vegetables and fruits? I'm assuming."

A small smile pulled at Pietro's mouth, as he told, "Mama and papa always fed us vegetables. We no have lots of money for meat. So, they always tried to stretch what we had with vegetables. Wanda never like them. Mother would always tell her to finish her food, but she only eat the meat. One day, father tell Wanda that monsters will come take her away at night, because she no eat vegetables."

It was clear that it was a fond memory of Pietro's, both because it was of his childhood with his sister and with his parents. But, Tilda coughed slightly while pointing out, "That sounds a little traumatic for a kid."

"Sokovian parents always tell children of monsters whenever they need something done," Pietro shrugged, "If you no brush your teeth, monster get you. You do not say _spasibo_ when you are given something, monster. One time, I was walking down the street and saw young boy stealing from food cart - I told him, _monster will come get you in your sleep._ He ran away crying."

As devious as the story was, Tilda couldn't help but put her hand over her mouth and try to suppress a laugh. Pietro was looking at her with that toothy grin, clearly wanting to use the tale as a joke to amuse her. He liked hearing her laugh, it was a nice laugh. Life, for some more than others; was too short not to smile.

"Maybe having kids is not for you." Tilda laughed, obviously meaning it as a joke.

"I will be good father. But, I will not make my child eat apples," Smiling, he wiggled his eyebrows playfully, "But, oranges, yes."

Raising an eyebrow, she mused, "You called me an orange once. _Apel'sin_?"

Pietro nodded, "Good pronunciation! I like your color hair, but I wonder what your real hair is? It is okay that it is dyed - you see my hair was altered by experiments."

"Hmm...no."

"No?"

"No, I'll keep you guessing." Tilda smirked, causing Pietro to laugh.

She realized then that around Pietro, she felt alive.


	8. Chapter 8

TC Stark: 14 reviews! 14! I'm so happy guys! Every time I read what you have to write, it puts a smile on my face. I never thought that I would be so into this story. I knew I had liked Quicksilver the moment I saw AOU and mused for a while writing a story, but once I started, I really feel there is no stopping. Thank you. Truly truly thank you. Quickly, this chapter begins with some much needed Rogers/Romanoff smut ;) So enjoy!

Disclaimer: If anyone has read my "Whatever Time We Have Left" story, I am reusing Tilda. I found with that story that I never developed her properly, so I'm revamping her - giving her a fresh coat of wax and throwing her into this story. Also, as much as I love the Cap, I've realized (in my head) she is much better suited in this AU, as this is a Pietro/OC story (with small parts of Cap/Black Widow because they're my OTP). This story is rated M for mature content, such as sex, violence, death, language, etc. I try not to ever be too vulgar, but also don't believe in censorship. This story deals with the serious issues of a fatal medical condition, so there's that. I do not own anyone, except Tilda and my ideas.

Chapter Eight

Muscles tightening. Breathing labored. Sweat dripping. The gym was a place to exert energy. To push your body to its limits and then some. There was no gain without any pain, and in the life of an Avenger, boy there was plenty of pain. They couldn't fight the next evil that threatened the world by sitting on the couch all day eating Cheetos.

Steve Rogers could feel the tightening in the pit of his stomach, as he slammed Natasha against the wall of the gym. It was only them and they were too hot and bothered to take themselves to either of their rooms. Sexual tension had been building for the past hour of their workout and the way that blue tee shirt clung to the captain's body had the Black Widow in a frenzy.

With his right forearm against the wall for grounding, the Cap kept his redheaded companion's fit body up - pinned between the surface and his solid body. Their sweat soaked clothes rubbed together, Natasha's shirt riding up with every buck against her core. That was the funny thing about Steve Rogers. Sometimes, the man made love to her like no one else had. Sweet, sensual, and loving.

And other times, he fucked her like a wild animal.

"Didn't know you were into voyeurism." Natasha moaned, feeling Steve's mouth beginning to attack her neck. Her skin was slightly salty from the sweat glistening, but he didn't care. If anything, the sweet aroma of flowers and spice pushed him forward.

" _Shh._ " Steve growled into her ear.

Natasha could feel her sex becoming wet, but mostly what she felt was his hard bulge rubbing aggressively in between her legs. He wanted it. And so did she. There was an urgency to the way their hands clawed at each other, needing desperately to connect on a deeper level. She needed to be penetrated. Now.

"Now." Natasha egged on, gripping his hair to guide his mouth onto hers.

Aggressively and passionately slamming his lips against hers, Steve reached to yank her shorts off her behind. He got them sliding just barely off her hips, never once letting her feet touch the ground. Natasha moved her hand down, bunching at his shirt along the way, before untying his sweats and pushing his own pants down to finally free his throbbing erection.

Steve adjusted Natasha in his hold, pulling her panties to the side before plunging himself inside her wet, wanting folds. The Cap needed to clamp a hand over her mouth, already feeling her screams vibrate against his palm. He didn't blame her. It was taking everything in his willpower to not snarl loudly at the way her beautiful sex gripped tightly onto him.

Their kisses were becoming sloppy and chaotic, as Steve maneuvered his hips to be bucking up into her. The former KGB agent's body bounced beautiful up and down on his length, fluid coating his girth and soaking his boxers. Not that he ever minded - that's what the laundry room was for.

Grabbing a fistful of Natasha's vibrant red hair, Steve pulled her head back so he could begin placing hard kisses along her jawline while continuously thrusting into her. The agent breathed in through her nostrils and let out deep, labored moans. Everytime he shoved himself all the way in, he hit her hilt and sent a shockwave of pleasure throughout her body. It was a electric and exhilarating and everything she wanted in a good fuck.

As Steve pulled his length out, he bucked hard back inside, causing Natasha to curse, " _Fuck._ "

"Language~" Steve chuckled playfully, moving his head up to capture her bruising lips.

The small break in their aggressive lovemaking cause Natasha to smile, wrapping her arms around his strong neck and riding his hips. Their movements worked together, meeting each other with a hard push. Desperate to just be connected and reach that peak of true, unadulterated bliss.

It was Natasha's body curling into his and shaking with orgasm that set Steve off. He threw his head back in a grunt, squeezing his eyes as her core tightened around his staff. He thrusted hard and deep, until feeling his fluid rush out of him and filling the Black Widow with his hot seed. The first few times they had intercourse, he pulled out. Even knowing she couldn't have children, he didn't want to take it upon himself and be disrespectful. He didn't know if that was okay. Needless to say, he knew now that his generosity had spoke volumes to her and she insisted now he finish inside.

Steve's hips swung upwards lazily a few more times, before practically collapsing against her and the wall. His hair was soaked, wet tips falling in front of his forehead as he watched her beautiful lips part to catch her breath. Even though his legs felt weak, he could stand there forever just with her against him.

Panting hard, Steve finally lower Natasha's body to the ground, though kept her shielded with his form regardless. Smiling, the redhead pulled her shorts up and winked up at the Cap, "Well...I would say this was a good workout."

"Roger that."

* * *

Another pair of shoes. Pietro Maximoff went through an unbelievable amount of sneakers from all the running he did. Seriously, he needed to talk to someone about that. If they were able to make a man who could run at superspeed, they could certainly make a practical shoe to live up to the person wearing them.

"You aware you're walking without shoes?"

Pietro was sulking at the state of his sneakers, when he heard a voice behind him. Turning around, he saw Clint Barton smirking while making his way over. Grinning, the Sokovian embraced the Hawkeye in greeting. Funny, how their friendship started out so explosive and now, the agent's son's middle name was Quicksilver's.

"I am aware, my friend, these shoes, they no good no more," Pietro referenced to the sneakers in hand, before hitting Clint's chest with a loose fist, "What are you doing here? You have newborn at home."

With a shrug, Clint smiled, "Eh, felt like checking on my other kids. You seen Nat around?"

Smiling, Pietro answered, "She with Captain right now. They're meeting with Fury - what, I don't know."

"Yea, Fury always has something fun cooked up for us," The archer chuckled, patting Pietro's firm bicep and winking, "I'll run into you later."

As Clint walked away, Pietro smiled. In a way, he wanted to tell the archer about his relationship with Tilda. They were friends, but in a way, he felt a paternal bond with the man. Technically, Hawkeye could be his father, but it felt strange to consider him as that role. Instead, he felt more like a mentor, someone who could give the Sokovian some advice and stability - something he didn't have from his parents dying when he was ten.

* * *

"Do you know you don't have shoes on?" Tilda asked, when she opened the door.

Pietro looked down and wiggled his toes, grinning, "Do you not like my socks? I thought they were cool. In Sokovia, we don't have much. So, I always like Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles."

As silly and perhaps even childish as it was, the orange haired telekinetic gave a small smile and welcomed him in. A part of her was nervous to have a male in her room, but she pushed that aside. She remembered that he was there for her. That he only wanted to get to know her. In a way, she wished she could look into his head and see if he was telling the truth, but being an agent over the years certainly gave her good instincts when it came to that.

Tilda's apartment was minimalistic. Pietro assumed that since she had just moved in and due to her past, she didn't have many possessions in the world. At least she was neat and organized. As much as the Sokovian thought he kept things tidy, he realized that it was nothing compared to some people.

"Would it be cheesy, if I told you I bought something?"

Tilda raised an eyebrow, as she walked over to the small kitchen to get them both glasses of water, "What did you get?"

Pietro smiled, while sitting down on the couch. He had long thrown his shoes in the trash, figuring since he was in the base that walking around in socks was fine. Tilda hadn't noticed a paper bag in his hand, as the Sokovian grinned, "First - I bring vodka. It isn't Sokovian, but Russian will have to do."

"Typical." The telekinetic snickered, folding her arms and joining him on the couch.

"The other, is this," Pietro reached in his pocket, pulling out a small jade elephant figurine and handing it to her, "It is supposed to give good fortune. Or, at least, that is what old little Chinese lady tell me at nearby shop. She look too nice to question."

Eyebrows furrowing in, Tilda hesitantly looked down at the figurine. Pietro had bought her a gift. With money. He had gone out and looked for something, considered its meaning, and got it for the purpose...of her liking it. It made her nervous, uncertain, and almost angry. Not at him. Maybe anger was just an emotion she automatically jumped to, but it was with herself. Why wasn't she reaching out for it yet?

After a deep breath, Tilda reached out and took the figurine. As her fingers wrapped around the object, Pietro moved his hand over hers. He didn't want to hold onto her for too long, because he didn't want to spook her; but the contact felt nice. Her skin was warm and it felt good to be close to her.

Letting go, Pietro sat back to watch Tilda eying the figurine. With a small smile, she explained, "This is the first present anyone has ever gotten me."

"Not even for birthdays? Christmas?" Pietro begged, his eyes searching hers.

Shaking her head, Tilda looked back over at the Sokovian before reaching over and grabbing his hand. It was firm, as if needing him. As if needing grounding and Pietro just held her hand back, giving her the support she needed. Letting her know that it was okay for her to be vulnerable, to open up. He was there for her.

A long, hard gulp slid down Tilda's throat, as she nodded and placed the figurine on the coffee table in front of them. She eyed it for a second, before realizing she was still squeezing his hand. Pietro didn't protest. He quite liked the contact, looking down while stroking her skin gently with his thumb.

"Spasibo." Tilda finally spoke.

Smiling, Pietro cooed, "You're learning. Soon, you speak fluent Sokovian. You know foreign language?"

Tilda laughed, while sitting back into her couch. Feeling more comfortable, the agent crossed her legs and explained, "I can speak some Spanish. A few Swedish words. Father didn't think that was very important."

"Learning languages is very important, papa always told me that. Wanda and I learned English young, but we no speak it very often. Mostly, we learn English to read tabloids. News around the world. I know many Slavic languages - Russian, Serbian, Ukraine; all very similar. Wanda knows French, but I never learned." Pietro explained, ending it with a small shrug and a smile.

"Did you learn that in school?"

Frowning slightly, Pietro shook his head, "No. Wanda and I no have formal education. We live in poor country. Our parents dead at ten. Only have each other - sometimes, we squat in rubble, abandoned houses. All we learn, is because of books and magazines, and TV when we could watch it."

"Have you watched much television now?" Seeing him nod, Tilda admitted, "I haven't really watched much tv...or movies...passed the 1940s."

Pietro tilted his head, asking, "The 1940s? You are not from that time like Captain."

Tilda shrugged gently, as the runner fixed them both glasses of vodka on the rocks, "No, but my father lived and breathed Captain America. He was obsessed. He cursed Banner's work for not succeeding. He thought he could be the one to perfectly replicate the serum and give birth to a super soldier identical to Steve Rogers. I suppose being exposed to modern media would only put thoughts in my head of a life other than becoming a weapon. It's funny seeing the Captain in the flesh...I watched so many videos of him. He's adjusting well to modern day."

"I did not like America for very long time. What happened to me and my sister - it was hard not to be bitter. I joined many protests against Stark, America, and anyone I thought was to blame. I was very angry. I feel...silly sometimes, for letting my anger get to me. I should not have let us being experiments. And we should have never joined Ultron, he was not stable... _robot man._ But, I wanted revenge," Sighing, Pietro took a swig of his drink and confessed, "We saved day, but we also caused it. I know we did not create Ultron, but it was our home country that took large hit. I cannot stand to go back just yet."

Even though Pietro was looking slightly sad, Tilda smiled and pointed out, "I find it admirable that you love your country so much. I never felt a connection to anywhere. I'm like a woman without a country." She commented dryly, though ultimately laughed.

The man gave a small chuckle, pointing out, "That is a short story. I once read when I was young boy. I was cute young boy." He added with a cheeky grin.

"Hmm, you sure about that?" She teased, resulting in them both laughing.


	9. Chapter 9

TC Stark: As usual, thank you for the amazing support! I am a few chapters ahead and I am just so excited seeing this actually fleshing out ^^

Disclaimer: If anyone has read my "Whatever Time We Have Left" story, I am reusing Tilda. I found with that story that I never developed her properly, so I'm revamping her - giving her a fresh coat of wax and throwing her into this story. Also, as much as I love the Cap, I've realized (in my head) she is much better suited in this AU, as this is a Pietro/OC story (with small parts of Cap/Black Widow because they're my OTP). This story is rated M for mature content, such as sex, violence, death, language, etc. I try not to ever be too vulgar, but also don't believe in censorship. This story deals with the serious issues of a fatal medical condition, so there's that. I do not own anyone, except Tilda and my ideas.

Chapter Nine

A few weeks had passed and life was passing as usual. The sun rose and set each day, just as it always had. There was a debate of who was going to be the new governor of New York City, but besides that things hadn't been that eventful. There had been a Hydra base deep in Wisconsin that a few of the Avengers were sent to, but that had been easily taken care of and they brought the winnings back with them.

Tilda and Natasha had been rock climbing that one day. Not on an actual mountain, but they had just installed one in the Avengers facility downstairs. It was good to have a pseudo friend who liked being active as well. So much of their jobs consisted of physical activity and even though the telekinetic used her powers in most missions, she still didn't want her body to get weak. Well, anymore than it already was doing on its own.

While the two agents did that, Pietro and Wanda were simply sitting down on an outside step. It was bright that day and the sun felt good on the telepathic's skin. It hardly ever shined this brightly in Sokovia and she realized that like a flower, she brightened up when the morning star danced in the sky.

" _You look happy."_ Pietro pointed out in their native Sokovian.

" _I am happy. This place is nice. We have good home. Good food. Friends._ " Wanda answered, smiling as she said it.

Pietro had noticed that the dark circles had almost completely disappeared from his sister's eyes. He had forgotten what her face looked like when she wasn't plagued with fatigue. She was so full of life now and it made him realize that they had only had each other for so long. That revenge was all that had filled their hearts since they were ten. It made him sad that he had robbed his sibling of being happier in the past.

Bowing his head down, Quicksilver asked, "And this Vision….he make you happy?"

"Yes, Pietro, he makes me happy," Turning to her brother, Wanda reached to hold onto Pietro's hand and squeeze it, "You must trust me. I am not child, and he is good man. You do not need to worry about being replaced."

There was a deep sigh, but ultimately Pietro wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pressed a kiss against her hair. He deeply loved his sister and the idea of anything happening to her hurt his soul. He could not imagine a life without her around, nor one where she was put in danger. Taking care of her was no longer a responsibility, it was a privilege and one he took seriously.

Running his fingers through Wanda's hair, Pietro rested his forehead against hers before getting up, " _I love you._ "

"I love you too, _moya lyubov'."_

Pietro then sped back into the Avengers facility, heading towards the cafeteria. There he found Tilda, eating what looked like a sausage and pepper sandwich. Figuring he had walked in on a golden opportunity, Quicksilver stopped and joked, "So, you like sausage, eh?"

"What?" Tilda asked, eyebrow tilted up.

"When we went to Russian restaurant, you order kielbasa. Now you eating sausage," Circling his hands, he eventually sighed, "It is bad joke."

With a smile, the agent put her sandwich down and agreed, "It was, but good effort."

Taking the seat opposite of her, Pietro smiled before remembering what he needed to tell her, "You have plans tonight?" When she shook her head, the Sokovian asked, "I thought maybe it would be nice for us to go to movies? I look at the times, maybe you would like to see new Jurassic World movie?"

Raising an eyebrow, Tilda asked innocently enough, "What's it about?"

Pietro blinked in confusion. For a moment, he thought maybe she was teasing. but it seemed she was serious. The girl really had never seen a movie past the 1940s. With an almost nervous laugh, he answered, "It is about dinosaurs."

"But, dinosaurs were during the Triassic period, not the Jurassic period," Tilda argued, before seeing that maybe she was taking it too literally and that Pietro simply was trying to plan something out for them to do. It was nice, he had paid attention when she spoke about not watching any modern day movies. Nodding, she changed the subject, "That sounds great. I like dinosaurs."

There was a look of happiness on Pietro's face, as he explained, "It is sequel of first one, we could watch it before tonight, yes?"

"That sounds great."

* * *

Tilda was admittedly a little more excited to see Jurassic World than she would like. Jurassic Park was a fantastic movie, despite its historical inaccuracies. The movie was made in the early nineties and yet, the graphics were just as good if not better than modern day films. It could have just been her inexperience of actually seeing current pictures, but she had been around computers enough, she knew how much technology improved throughout the years. So, yes, she was happy to be seeing this one with Pietro.

After paying for their tickets, Pietro turned to Tilda and explained, "At movies, you get popcorn. It is like tradition."

"Did you and Wanda ever see movies together?" Tilda asked, as they made their way to the snack line.

"Movie theater not as big as anything here, but we used to sneak in because we had no money," Smirking, the enhanced winked, "Many movies we never finished because we were chased out. I buy many bootleg on street corner when I worked with Sokovian mob."

With a light snort, Tilda teased, "I wonder if anyone knows the Avengers is made up of a bunch of former outlaws."

"I do not think of myself as outlaw. Um...more Peter Pan."

The two laughed at the reference, finally reaching the cashier. After grabbing a medium popcorn and a drink for them, they headed towards the theater. Tilda was thankful Pietro told her to grab a jacket, since it was usually cold at the movies. She zipped up her thin hoodie and took the soda from him so he didn't have to hold everything.

It was evident from the look on Tilda's face that she was enjoying the movie. Pietro couldn't be happier, having a hard time paying attention to the screen when it was so important to him that she have a good time. He considered putting his arm around her shoulders, but decided against it, as it didn't want it seeming that he took her to see Jurassic World as a ploy to cop a feel.

Halfway into the movie, Tilda coughed. It wasn't loud, but she still put her hand in front of her mouth. She had felt something wet touch the skin and when she looked at her palm, she saw blood had painted it. The telekinetic frowned. Pietro was having a good time, he was watching the film with a boyish glimmer in his eyes and she didn't want to disrupt that. He had been so nice to pick this date out, she didn't want her sickness getting in the way.

Excusing herself, the agent ran out of the theater and into the bathroom. It left Pietro concerned, as Tilda was holding her mouth while leaving. Did she need to throw up? Perhaps the 3D aspect of the movie had made her nauseous. He should have known better - 2D would have been better for someone inexperienced at going to a movie.

Not wanting to draw attention to himself by running at superspeed, Pietro simply jogged out of the theater towards the bathroom. It occurred to him that it would look strange for a man to step into a woman's restroom, hopping from foot to foot in front of the door as he thought about what to do next.

Sighing, Pietro decided he would deal with the consequences, while letting himself in. The theater was a small one and had only one stall per bathroom. Tilda was hunched over the sink when she saw the Sokovian come in, demanding, "What are you doing in here?"

"You ran out of theater so fast, I wanted to make sure you were okay," Pietro explained, seeing the few droplets of blood in the sink, "What happened?"

Shaking her head, Tilda looked away from Pietro while attempting to shoo him away. Catching her in his arms, the Sokovian smoothed her hair from her face as she explained, "It's...it's nothing. Just like the nosebleeds, this happens. I...please, just go back to the movie, I'll be right there."

With a worried look on his face, Pietro cupped Tilda's cheek and brought her attention to his eyes. Looking deep into her own orbs, the man insisted, "I am not leaving you. You need to let me help."

"There's nothing to help," With a sigh, she held her forehead and cursed under her breath, "I ruined this date."

"You did not ruin anything. You are not feeling well, I will not get mad. It is just movie. You are more important." Pietro assured her, stroking her face while begging her to believe him.

Tilda bowed her head and allowed herself to be brought into his embrace. An overwhelming dark cloud was taking over her, feeling stupid for being so dramatic. Dealing with her sickness had been only her problem for so long. When her condition didn't affect anyone else it was easy to remain calm, but when she had someone as caring as Pietro around, she felt the need to be better. To not inconvenience him with her disease.

The warmth from his lips against her forehead calmed Tilda down, holding onto his shirt as she asked, "I'm okay...can we go back to the movie?"

"You do not want to go to doctor?"

"It's not going to help with anything," Looking up, Tilda found herself touching his cheek. Pietro moved into the contact, smiling at the sign of affection, "I just...want to be normal. For a night. We can...if Bruce is up, we can go to him afterwards."

Nodding in understanding, the Sokovian bent down to lightly peck her lips. His hand held onto hers, as he guided her out. Pietro was still wary over them going back into the theater. Every protective instinct wanted to take her to Banner. To shake him and tell him to do something. But, he didn't. Tilda wanted to feel normal. Experience was couples did and he was going to give that to her.

Because he loved her.

* * *

After the small incident in the bathroom, Tilda was free of any accidents for the rest of the night. The movie was very entertaining and Pietro enjoyed hearing about how much the other enhanced liked it. It struck him that it was the first time he had seen her so animated before, using her hands to describe every moment that she really liked and apologizing here and there when she felt she was talking too much.

It was dark by the time the two got back to the base, everyone presumably sleeping. Tilda preferred it that way. She was not one for attention, and if they were all in bed, Pietro couldn't insist they go see Bruce. Besides the minor hiccup, she had had an amazing night and didn't want to spoil it with bad news.

As they stepped into the clean halls of the base, Pietro turned towards Tilda, "It is late...perhaps...you would like to spend night in my room?" After seeing her hesitation, the Sokovian quickly assured, "Not to do anything you don't want. Just to sleep...it gets lonely...and...I do not want our time to end."

"I don't either." Tilda's words came out of her mouth before she even had a chance to think them through. It was dawning on her that it was her emotions that were starting to make the decisions, instead of her brain. She wasn't using logic anymore and that was a dangerous path to go down.

Tilda's heart pounded against her ribcage, as they entered Pietro's room. With a blue and silver streak, he ran around quickly picking clothing up and made the bed, so that perhaps his place could look more presentable to her. Sheepishly grinning, he apologized, "It is mess, I know. But, I do know where everything is in this apartment."

A small smile pulled at her lips, "I'm not judging."

It had seemed they were stalling. Both making small jokes, simply standing around. Tilda's eyes were fixated on the bed. Pietro wished he knew some way to let her know that he did not intend on forcing her into anything she didn't want to do. It was easy with everyday media to assume everything was about sex, but he didn't want it to be that way with her. How could he convey that?

"You want to take shoes off before getting into bed," Pietro decided to start, already reaching down to undo his shoe laces, "I hope you don't mind, but I like to sleep without shirt. It feels more comfortable. Do you have sleep routines?"

Eyes still focused on the bed, Tilda shook her head once before reaching down and taking her boots off. Her gaze was fixated on Pietro's shirt being pulled off his body, trying hard not to stare at the muscles beneath. Sure, being an agent in a densely male populated field, she had seen plenty of men shirtless. But, none of them had been Pietro Maximoff. None of them had been someone she actually was attracted to.

Pietro eased himself down on the bed, watching Tilda approach it gingerly. He didn't make a sound or any movement. He wanted her to know that there was no rush. No pressure. They were just two adults, sharing a bed together for the night. Many would take this as an opportunity to make a move, but he wouldn't. He simply wanted to feel her near him.

Finally kneeling onto the mattress, Tilda slipped her body onto its side - facing Pietro. His smile eased her worries, forcing her to smile back. How could someone be so patient and understanding? That was not the world they lived in. Everyone wanted something for something, but not him.

"You know...I...I've never been with anyone before." Tilda admitted, feeling the need to tell him practically ripping from her chest.

Pietro eased down more onto the bed, turning his own body to face her, "No boyfriend?"

"No...father always wanted me to reproduce. I remember in studies that it was the reason he never removed my uterus. He wanted to see if my powers could be biological. There were men who came around. Who he inspected. Interviewed. One of them kissed me once…" With a shrug, Tilda added, "After SHIELD took me in...I had no desire to get to know someone. To bother with human relations. I know...being in my position, many would be sleeping with anyone they could...and that's fine...but, I never could. I just wanted to be alone."

With a sad smile, Pietro reached over and gently stroked the line of her neck. The simple touch brought Tilda closer, instinctively moving into his hard body. The natural aroma of the Sokovian filled her nostrils, easing her mind so to feel more comfortable. There were somethings you just couldn't fake, and him sincerely caring for her emanated off his very being.

Pietro's lips politely found hers, catching onto them with light force. Tilda remained still for that moment, closing her eyes and thinking how nice they felt. They were full and soft. She wondered if he had a lot of experience kissing women. He was a handsome man, personable, and kind; what woman wouldn't be eating out of the palm of his hands. And yet, it was her. She was the one fortunate enough.

Instincts were kicking in, as Tilda held onto Pietro's firm bicep and parted her lips. With a shaking breath, she mouth her mouth to push more into his, asking him for guidance. The man's large hand cupped his partner's cheek, holding her steady as his tongue came out to gently glide along the span of her lower lip.

The tiny hairs of his moustache gently scratched her skin, but she didn't care. As his tongue entered her mouth, Tilda met his with her own wet appendage. It was a completely didn't sensation than just a closed mouth kiss and the telekinetic wondered if maybe Pietro was also able to manipulate thinking. The way his essence was transferred through a single, gentle make out was intoxicating.

Closing his mouth back up, Pietro pressed one last kiss onto her lips before slowly moving away and wishing, "Good night, Tilda."


	10. Chapter 10

TC Stark: So, just to tell you guys, this chapter kind of moves things along. And there's some action and sad parts in it. I feel the climax of the story is reaching its peek and as much as I wanted to postpone it, my fingers could not allow it. Please enjoy this chapter! ^^ And thank you for all the love, your reviews give me life! Also, the place in this chapter exists and is forty minutes from me xD!

Disclaimer: If anyone has read my "Whatever Time We Have Left" story, I am reusing Tilda. I found with that story that I never developed her properly, so I'm revamping her - giving her a fresh coat of wax and throwing her into this story. Also, as much as I love the Cap, I've realized (in my head) she is much better suited in this AU, as this is a Pietro/OC story (with small parts of Cap/Black Widow because they're my OTP). This story is rated M for mature content, such as sex, violence, death, language, etc. I try not to ever be too vulgar, but also don't believe in censorship. This story deals with the serious issues of a fatal medical condition, so there's that. I do not own anyone, except Tilda and my ideas.

Chapter Ten

"Um, is this entirely necessary?" Tony Stark questioned.

A few days had flown by, when the Cap had requested a meeting. Iron Man didn't often leave his New York City tower, but decided to grace the rest of the Avengers with his presence. That was a decision that had yet to be viewed at as a gift or a curse. When the rich man began complaining, Steve categorized it under _Stark being a pain in my ass._

Sighing, Steve Rogers stood before the long oval table that sat everyone, "Yes. I don't think it's too much to ask for, for us all to get together and talk. We're a team and have fought many battles before, and will probably fight many in the future. It's important that we all remain a coherent gathering."

"But, most of you guys live here." The billionaire argued.

"But _you_ don't," Steve sighed exasperatedly, "And neither does Thor and neither does Sam. You don't hear either of them complaining."

Cracking open a can of soda, Tony shrugged, "Well, that's simple. Thor has his lady friend down here and Sam well...he lives in Brooklyn," Turning towards the Falcon, he shrugged, "No offense."

With his eyebrows furrowed in, Sam awkwardly responded, "Ugh...no offense, I guess?"

Feeling he said nothing wrong, Tony went to reach for his soda. Just before he was able to grab it though, the can suddenly caved in on itself, maybe a slight mess. Shocked, he looked up to see Tilda sitting with her arms crossed on the other side of the table, looking pointedly at him and obviously the one who caused it to happen.

Loudly groaning, Tony muttered under his breath, "Sometimes, I really hate the enhanced."

Before Wanda or Pietro could do something about Tony's rudeness, Steve cleared his throat, "I'll make this quick. Obviously, the Avengers have run into some controversy. Some people oppose us even being here. I want us to start volunteering on our off time. Obviously, we still train. And missions come first. But, if you have free time, I want you to spend it helping out the community. I don't care if it's helping with recovery efforts, rebuilding damaged buildings, or going to see sick kids in the hospital. New York City, in some parts, still aren't right after Loki. We made a lot of damage in Africa and Sokovia took a huge hit. We have to give back."

"Was it not enough that we saved the world?" Thor questioned, "Buildings can be rebuild. We saved lives."

"We destroyed lives by getting rid of homes." Wanda argued.

Before another fight was going to break out, Tony interjected, "I'll take care of the press. I'm great in front of a camera."

Seeing the Cap sigh, Sam Wilson volunteered, "I'll cover the VA's. Soup kitchens even."

"See? That's good. Good place to start," Steve nodded, smiling that his ragtime team was coming together, "Okay, just come up with stuff amongst yourselves. I'm helping in anyway I can too. I just thought, maybe this was important. Alright, dismissed."

As the captain began walking away, Natasha stood up to follow him. As far as everyone knew, she was simply his second in command. It made sense. Ever since SHIELD got to Steve, the Black Widow had been his handler. They worked together when finding out the truth about Hydra, discovering the Winter Soldier, and he had been a big supporter when the master assassin took a shot at a relationship with Bruce Banner.

Now out of the earshot of the group, Steve directed his words to Natasha, "I have to go to Romania. Apparently there's a small SHIELD operation there that didn't get the message that Hydra was working secretly underneath us. Would you like to come with me?"

"Been awhile since I've been to Romania," Natasha mused, smiling her full lips and winking, "Romantic getaway?"

* * *

"I am going to kick your ass."

The statement may have been a challenging one, but for some reason it sounded so funny coming from Pietro. It must have been the accent and the way he emphasized _ass_ at the end. His words came out in the perfect mixture of playful and competitive, there being a slightly devious hint in his eyes.

In Mount Kisco, New York there was a place called Grand Prix that had not only a bowling alley in it, but a go kart course as well. The Sokovian thought there was no better place to take someone on a date, then somewhere they could have a little friendly competition. And since he was all about speed, driving around on a track was a no brainer.

Holding her helmet against her side, Tilda smirked, "You think that, but it's really I who is gonna kick your ass."

"But, I have such nice ass." Pietro teased, as he jogged away from the orange haired woman before she could get him.

As it would go, Tilda did end up winning. But, it didn't matter. They had had fun. So much fun. Once being strapped into those go karts, something childlike sparked inside both of them. A youthful happiness that neither had experienced when actually that age. It didn't matter they were both in their mid-twenties, they laughed and felt the adrenaline pumping just like a kid who first experienced going down a long slide.

Since the establishment had a rule against no drinking before driving, Tilda and Pietro decided to do best three out of five. There was one that Quicksilver won, but in the end his Orange had came out the victor. Though he was sulking slightly, he decided to be a good sport and shake her hand.

The bartender at Grand Prix made a good apple martini, Tilda grabbing hers as Pietro took his White Russian and plate of appetizers. They walked to a table in the corner and settled down in it, still high from the racing. Both seemed concerned with their hair after removing their helmets, though the agent was happy she had put hers in a French braid.

"It is too bad they have silly rule about drinking," Pietro mused, "I could probably beat you after a few."

Smirking, Tilda took a sip of her own drink and cooed, "Don't be a sore loser."

"Wanda always said that was my problem. I am...how you say, hot headed sometimes. But, only sometimes." He defended, eventually breaking into a smile.

The two laughed, going through a round of drinks before going up to order another. When they sat back down, Tilda took a moment to appreciate Pietro's facial features. She was beginning to notice things she hadn't before. Things that a normal person would look over, but a loved one wouldn't. It was funny how her perception of things were shifting. She couldn't decide if it was a good thing or a bad thing, but she liked it all the same.

Turning the rock glass his White Russian was served in, Pietro spoke, "I was thinking about what Captain said earlier. It makes me feel bad that I am not doing anything for Sokovia. I know, I am not ready to face it. But, one day, I would like to go back. Would like to live there. My grandparents had a house there, it is still in the Maximoff name. If it is still standing, I would like to fix it. And live there one day."

"That sounds really nice."

Hearing the sincerity in Tilda's words, Pietro smiled and boldly asked, "One day, would you live there with me?"

A frown then pulled at her lips, sadly starting to say, "Pietro-"

"Do not think about anything else. I just ask, if I lived in Sokovia, in nice house, would you live there with me?" He kindly asked. He didn't want her to think about the reality of things. He just wanted to daydream a little.

Knowing what he was doing, Tilda smiled and nodded, "I would really like that...I've never really had a home before. It would be nice to have one. Have something to call my own...someone."

The Sokovian leaned forward, painting a lovely picture for her, "It is big house. We would have lots of land. Maybe get small dog. It would be peaceful. I think...we would both like peaceful. Wanda could visit. And Clint and Natasha."

"And Vision."

"And Vision," Pietro sighed reluctantly, "We not even living there, and you already calling the shots?"

Tilda grinned, as eventually Pietro's face broke out in a grin. It was good for both of them to see the other laugh. As it was such a rarity. Both enjoyed seeing the other smile. They had beautiful smiles, with beautiful glimmers in their eyes as they did so. Two people who had been frowning for so long, actually happy.

A scream indicated that something was wrong, the two enhanced turning to see that the Grand Prix had suddenly been invaded by a group of armed robbers. Some time had gone by and the place had gotten crowded. Almost all lanes of the bowling alley were full and the go kart track was heavily used. Not to mention those in the arcade and the parents of children sitting in the bar area, eating and drinking.

"This is a robbery!" One robber shouted, pointing his AR-15 towards the ceiling and firing off a few rounds, "Everyone get your wallets and your phones, as well as any other valuables, and GET ON THE GROUND!"

Eying each other, Tilda and Pietro stood up as another robber pointed his gun towards them, "Don't be heroes."

With a deep frown, Quicksilver warned, "You should not be here. There are children. Go take your crime somewhere else."

"Sit down, _Putin._ " The first robber ordered.

Growling, Pietro corrected, "I am not Russian!"

Placing a hand on Pietro's shoulder, Tilda instructed him, "Call the authorities and get the children out of here."

Pietro wanted to protest her facing the four robbers alone. He wanted to tell her that he could help, but he remembered that he was the fast one and needed to get the innocent bystanders out. Besides, Tilda was an agent. Trained to be a weapon since a child, and being perfected from SHIELD. She could handle this.

The runner nodded, as Tilda began walking forward. One thief laughed condescendingly, "What'd ya gonna do, sweetheart? Can't bat your pretty little lashes at us."

"Nah, look at her tattoos - she's a wild gal." One laughed just as insultingly.

Suddenly, using her powers, Tilda ripped an AR-15 from one robber's hands before punching him square in the jaw. When the robbers saw that they were not dealing with an untrained civilian, Pietro began doing his duty. He sped to collect as many children as possible, putting them all in the private bowling alley that was only reserved for parties.

Shots were firing, as Tilda ducked down and kicked at one robber's ankles. The man fell down, as she grabbed his gun and slammed the butt of it into his nose. One came at her from behind, wrapping his arm around her neck to keep her against his body. It gave her grounding to kick up and lock onto another thief, pulling him close before kicking him against the face. Once that one was down, she threw her head back into the other's mouth and slipped out of his grasp.

Before the fourth could get to her, she raised her hand and sent a force field in front of her, thus blocking the robber from getting to her. Out of the corner of her eyes, Tilda could see one of them reaching for his gun and with concentration, she made sure to explode the firearm right as he went to grab for it - probably causing him to lose a finger or two.

Keeping the force field up, Tilda turned and lifted her other hand. All three remained confused, until they felt their bodies beginning to lift up off the ground. They were hovering in place and looking quite freaked out, the telekinetic growling as she concentrated hard on both tasks. Something like this would have been easy a few years ago. Only sixteen, she could snap someone's neck with a flick of the wrist. Now, it was weighing on her to do two things at once.

After having called the authorities and gotten everyone to safety, Pietro sped over to the scene. Eyes widening, he paused for a moment to marvel at Tilda's powers, before seeing a single bead of blood dripping from her nose. Frowning, he ran up to her and begged, "Put them down, Tilda. I can take care of this."

"I can do this!" Tilda argued, feeling the three men falter a little.

"The cops will be here, you are over exerting yourself. I will tie them up."

Frowning, Tilda could see the desperation in Pietro's face as she sighed and dropped her arms. The three men landed on the ground with a thud, as the fourth fell forward from trying to push at the force field this whole time. It didn't take long for the Quicksilver to tie all their hands behind their backs, and luckily, the police were running in as soon as that happened.

As the cops then took over, Pietro held Tilda in his arms and wiped at the blood, "We get you to Banner. Now."

* * *

" _Her cells have begun decaying at a more rapid rate. I would give her a few months. Just...make her comfortable."_

Bruce's words rang through Pietro's mind as he sat on the edge of his bed. He wanted to be angry. He wanted to be mad at the doctor, even though he knew it wasn't his fault. The need to scream was quelled only when he remembered that it would do nothing. It was out of his hands and he had never felt more useless than he did now.

"I can understand...if you want to leave."

Once Tilda's words reached his ears, Pietro turned his head towards the telekinetic. She was sitting up against the headboard, with her knees against her chest. There was a feeling of emptiness inside of her. And she knew that her greatest fears were coming true. She no longer wanted to die.

Running her hands over her knees, Tilda added, "You can leave. I would understand. You don't need to go through this with me. It won't be pretty."

Tears filled Pietro's eyes as the words came out of her mouth. His jaw was locked tight and his lips thinned into a firm line. Eyebrows furrowing in, the Quicksilver got up and moved himself to sit practically on her feet. His piercing eyes practically looked into her soul, showing Tilda how broken he was from the news.

Cupping her cheeks, Pietro strongly stated, "Do not say that. I will not leave. I will stay by your side. You do not leave the people you love."

Tilda grabbed onto Pietro's hand, tears forming in her own eyes as she choked, "Pietro...why did you ever make me love you?"

"I am selfish man…"

With a small nod, Tilda gave a rueful smile, "Thank you."


	11. Chapter 11

TC Stark: Hello! So in this chapter, we deal with some usual angst. And a flashback! Thank you again for those still reading this ^^ Hope you enjoy! Reviews feed my soul! xD

Disclaimer: If anyone has read my "Whatever Time We Have Left" story, I am reusing Tilda. I found with that story that I never developed her properly, so I'm revamping her - giving her a fresh coat of wax and throwing her into this story. Also, as much as I love the Cap, I've realized (in my head) she is much better suited in this AU, as this is a Pietro/OC story (with small parts of Cap/Black Widow because they're my OTP). This story is rated M for mature content, such as sex, violence, death, language, etc. I try not to ever be too vulgar, but also don't believe in censorship. This story deals with the serious issues of a fatal medical condition, so there's that. I do not own anyone, except Tilda and my ideas.

Chapter Eleven

Pietro didn't want to leave Tilda. He had argued with the captain, until finally both Wanda and the agent yelled at him to just go. Apparently, there was meant to be an assassination on a governor in Tennessee and Rogers wanted to send the twins. After a week, he had returned from Romania with Natasha and already handing out missions. Since Sam was volunteering at the VA, Stark was dealing with the press, Thor was in Asgard, and Bruce was the resident doctor; the only ones left were the Maximoffs.

Due to Bruce's diagnosis, Tilda was not allowed on any missions. It had felt strange. She had been a weapon since her birth, an agent since a teenager, and the terrible stages hadn't begun yet; so she was feeling useless. Banner's words were for her to pretend to be a normal being. She found that very boring.

"So…she is dying?" Wanda asked, as she and her brother moved through a crowd of people at a political rally.

Deeply frowning, Pietro's eyes remained peeled for their goal while spitting, "I do not want to call it that."

Being a twin, they had a bond that was stronger than even most siblings. They were two halves of a whole. Even before becoming a telepathic, Wanda could always read her brother's mind. She felt what he felt. He felt what she felt. In that moment in Sokovian, she had felt him die. No matter who came between them, they would always be soul mates and she knew in that moment, how much he was suffering.

Reaching down, Wanda grabbed a hold of her brother's hand and understood, "You need to stay strong. She will need you."

"I do not want her to go," Pietro frowned, glad he was wearing sunglasses, "It is not fair, Wanda. I feel...same way when mama and papa died. I am bargaining. And praying. And I do not want her to suffer. Banner says...it will be painful."

The Maximoff sister frowned. She understood what he meant. Not only did Wanda have Pietro, but she also had Vision. What her brother was feeling for Tilda, she felt for the android. She could not imagine losing him, let alone knowing that one day soon he would no longer be with her.

"You just...need to make most of your time."

Pietro nodded, before stopping them and pointing out, "Yes. Let us take care of this quickly. I have assassin in sight."

* * *

"Is it weird?" Natasha asked, sitting at one of the outside tables surrounding the base. It was a sunny day and the redhead was wearing very stylish glasses, "How do you feel?"

"Useless." Tilda sighed, ashing her cigarette.

The assassin smiled. She knew what Tilda meant. Even though she had mused a normal life with Bruce once upon a time, truthfully Natasha wouldn't know who she was if she wasn't an agent. It was her life. Who she was bred to be. Who she felt most comfortable as. Who else would she be if she weren't the Black Widow?

Taking another pull, Tilda sat back up in her seat and described, "I feel the same. So, I don't understand why I can't be in the field. Why I can't use my powers. I find myself doing little things, like turning the TV on or even flushing the toilet, but," With a small laugh, she looked down and smiled, "But, then Pietro gets on me for it."

Natasha chuckled gently, her sultry voice cooing, "He's head over heels for you. I can see it."

"Like the Cap is for you?" Tilda turned towards Natasha, seeing her turning her nose up at the accusation, "I am quite adept at reading you, Romanoff."

"It's hard finding partners who accept our pasts. I thought maybe I could find that with Bruce...but I was trying to erase what I was. With Steve...I accept it...and I move on." The Black Widow sat back comfortably in her seat, musing her words. It was calming to think about, how at peace she felt. Just about a year ago, she thought running away would help her feel normal, but instead, it was embracing who she was that really did the trick.

While taking another pull of her cigarette, Tilda leaned back and rested her temple against her fist, "You were one of the first people I met when SHIELD took me in."

"I remember that," Natasha nodded, "You were seventeen. I was twenty-two. I had only been with SHIELD myself for a year. Back then, I was still adjusting to being one of the good guys."

Finally ashing the cigarette, the agent turned towards her colleague and smirked, "I looked up to you. It's why I tried dying my hair red the first time, but it just ended up orange and I decided to stick with it."

"I don't think I'm a very good role model."

"I think Clint's kids would disagree."

* * *

 _ **Flashback**_

"Again. Again!"

Dr. Stygar shouted behind a plexiglas wall, his arms waving around as if he were a conductor for an orchestra. The laboratory was large and technologically complex. There were many workers monitoring stats, reading vitals, and researching cell structure. All the while, the ambitious doctor stood almost pressed against the wall in joyous impatience.

A young Tilda, about ten; sat on her knees in the middle of the room. Different toys and building blocks littered the room. A dollhouse was in front of her. Tears in her eyes, the girl begged, "Please, daddy, my head hurts."

Flustered, the white haired man swung his hand across himself in an angered motion, "Doctor - _DOCTOR_ Stygar! Remember your training! You were born for greatness!"

"This maybe too much for her. We may need to think of other options." A young, blonde female doctor approached the animated man.

"I will not wait for another specimen to be born, Dr. Shelley," Dr. Stygar sighed, "No. She will do. She can accomplish this. She is just being _LAZY!_ "

The last word rumbled throughout the room Tilda sat in. She could feel tears in her eyes. Daddy was disappointed in her. He was always disappointed. She wasn't fulfilling her missions - her goals. If only she could be more like Captain America. That's what he always told her - _why can't you be better?_

Head bowed down, Tilda clenched her fists while beginning to concentrate. It felt so hard sometimes. Telekinesis hadn't been the goal for Dr. Stygar. Realistically, he wanted a super soldier like the man whom the serum first created. But, someone who could control things with their mind was truly gifted. And the doctor saw his opportunity to not only replicate the end result, but improve on it. To start a future of enhanced beings, mutations of the genetic code. It would be his greatest achievement.

As Tilda put her mind to it, the objects around her slowly began to float. In years to come, this ability would be second nature, but for the moment she was a ten year old child. Her brain was still developing. So, it was a struggle, but the objects soon hovered above her and began moving in a circle - just like father wanted.

Finally feeling like she had a handle on it, Tilda opened her eyes and stared at the dollhouse. Little girls loved these things. Parents got them so a child could play with it. Maybe pretend their dolls lived in the house. Not Stygar though. The sole purpose for getting her the toy was to reach a goal.

Slowly, cracks began climbing up the doll house. The structure of it started being tainted by lines crawling up it. Paint began chipping and the little nick nacks inside rumbled, some falling off. With the objects in the air, suddenly the house exploded outwards - pieces of a beloved child toy everywhere.

Dr. Stygar was cheering on the other side of the wall, as Tilda grabbed her head and fell forward, everything falling around her. Medical was quick to run in so to check the girl's vitals, as the white haired man turned to Dr. Shelley, "You see! Soon, she will do that with ease. She won't even have to use her hands to manipulate her actions. We are creating the future!"

* * *

A few days had passed before Pietro and Wanda returned to the base. The Vision had been waiting for the Scarlet Witch, apparently having gone to retrieve some exotic fruits for his lover. As much as the runner wanted to dislike the android, he had to admit that he was a good fit for his sister. She seemed happy.

Pietro was tired. Very tired. Still, he wanted to see Tilda. It felt wrong even being away from her for the few days that he was. Sure, in their line of duty, an early death was a reality. After all, he had almost been as good as dead from saving Barton and that young boy. But, to know that his love had a definite end in sight, it was hard to grasp.

Tilda had given Pietro a spare key to her room and he assumed that was where she was when he had tried calling and she did not answer. Quicksilver had to admit, there was a small amount of panic in his throat when he entered her apartment and she wasn't there. He was almost about to head towards Bruce's, when he heard the water running.

"Tilda?" Pietro called out, after knocking on her bathroom door.

"Come in!"

A small blush heated his cheeks, Pietro looking around as if feeling guilty. After a moment or two, the Sokovian stepped in to see Tilda submerged down to the shoulders in her bathtub. A bubble bath. It was cute, feminine. Not what he had expected to see when he had walked in, but she looked so comfortable with her hair in a bun and her head resting against the edge.

"I'm wearing my bra and underwear," Tilda voiced, a rueful smile on her face, "I was tired. This sounded nice."

"Are you alright?"

She nodded, "Yea. Just...relaxing. Would you like to come in?"

Pietro considered his options, before shedding his shirt and pants. The Sokovian wore boxer briefs, which hugged his thick thighs snugly and accentuated his plump rear. Maybe Tilda was losing her inhibitions towards the end, but she found herself staring longer than she normally would have.

As Pietro eased into the other side of the tub, Tilda pointed out, "I never noticed your bullet wounds before. I guess it's always been dark whenever I've seen you without a shirt."

Truthfully, the Sokovian had almost forgotten about them. Look down at his bare chest, he nodded, "They make me look manly, no?"

"So manly." Tilda laughed.

The small joke make Pietro smile, as he looked down at the water. Bubbles covered most of her, but from what he could see, she was toned. Tilda worked out quite often and her peach colored skin was tight around her abdomen. He knew she had a feminine figure, with a small waist and womanly hips. Admittedly, he stared at her rump enough to know it was round, firm, and shapely. The tattoos that littered her body only added to the fact that he thought she was a beautiful sculpture of a person.

Reaching into the water, Pietro picked up her right foot and placed it on his thigh. Tilda remained quiet, as his fingers began massaging the sole. Personally, she thought her feet were ugly, but with how well he was pushing his thumbs into her heel, she discovered she really didn't care about that.

Resting back further into the tub, Tilda hummed, "I know where I want my body buried."

Pietro's massaging stop, his eyes staring at her average sized foot and frowned, "Must we talk about that?"

"If not now, when?"

The truth behind her words sunk in fast, as the Sokovian nodded, "Where would you like to be buried?"

"Sokovia," Pietro's electric eyes shot up, as Tilda smiled, "If that's okay. I just figured...you make it sound so nice. So homey. Warm. Maybe you could bury me near your grandparent's house. You can tell whatever future wife or girlfriend you have, I'm your pet dog or something."

A deep frown darkened the handsome man's facial features, as he reached under to pull Tilda towards him. Water spilled gently over the tub's edges, rocking back and forth as Pietro positioned her to be sitting in his lap. Part of her was too tired to fight back, and another part yearned for the contact. She embraced his arms circling around her and how her back felt pressed against his chest.

Running his hand up over her forehead, Pietro pressed his lips against her cheek and remained there to whisper into her ear, "Do not speak like that. I will tell _everybody_ that you are woman I love. I will keep you forever in here," Picking her hand up, he held it close to his heart, "You will always be with me."

Tilda rested comfortably in his arms, closing her eyes as she felt him gently rocking her. She felt loved. More than loved. It struck her that she had never felt that way. How could she have gone her whole life without doing so? It was a beautiful emotion. To feel such profound happiness; she felt content. She had thought falling in love would make her regret dying and while it certainly did, she wasn't as upset as she thought she would be. So long as she had Pietro by her side.

"Pietro?"

"Mm?" He lightly hummed, running his hands over her shoulders.

Running her hand lightly over his knee, Tilda softly confessed, "I'm naturally blonde."


	12. Chapter 12

TC Stark: I can't believe the summer is coming to an end! I had a marvelous weekend outside. I hope you guys all enjoyed your Saturday and Sundays! For those who worked, I feel your pain - I didn't always have a 9-5 Monday-Friday job. Thank you again to all my lovely reviewers, you guys are amazing and I'm so glad you are still liking this story. I love it's full of angst and sadness. Like Tilda and Pietro, I wanted to concentrate on the journey, not the destination. I know, that's corny lol Enjoy!

Disclaimer: If anyone has read my "Whatever Time We Have Left" story, I am reusing Tilda. I found with that story that I never developed her properly, so I'm revamping her - giving her a fresh coat of wax and throwing her into this story. Also, as much as I love the Cap, I've realized (in my head) she is much better suited in this AU, as this is a Pietro/OC story (with small parts of Cap/Black Widow because they're my OTP). This story is rated M for mature content, such as sex, violence, death, language, etc. I try not to ever be too vulgar, but also don't believe in censorship. This story deals with the serious issues of a fatal medical condition, so there's that. I do not own anyone, except Tilda and my ideas.

Chapter Twelve

"I know what I want my next tattoo to be."

Looking up from his massive plate of bacon and eggs, Pietro asked, "What?"

"A jade elephant," Tilda smiled, "I just have to figure out where. Maybe on my hip."

"Perhaps the other arm?"

Giving a look to her bare arm, the agent shook her head, "No. I never wanted to touch that one. I always just thought the one sleeve worked. A balance sort of. In some, weird hippie sense."

"I think it works perfectly, beruska."

As the two enjoyed their breakfast, Wanda and Vision stepped into the cafeteria. The Maximoff twin shot her brother a smile, as she walked over to get her morning coffee. The Scarlet Witch was beautiful indeed. Pietro was lucky man to be surrounded by such gorgeous women - many natives of Sokovia would be jealous if they could see the females who resided in the base with him.

After picking up her own breakfast, Wanda guided the Vision and her to the table that her brother was seated at. Pietro moved to sit closer to Tilda, so to give the other couple more room. It was strange how comfortable they felt at the Avengers base. How it had become a way of life; how important and at home they felt with everyone else.

"Is it strange not eating?" Tilda asked, as Wanda stirred her cup of coffee.

The Vision shrugged, emotionlessly looking towards her and explaining, "I don't consider it strange. I am artificial, though not mechanical like Ultron was. I am made up of cells and could be considered a biological android. I _could_ eat if I so wished, though I have no desire. Though, I must admit, I admire the talented chefs and bakers who put so much effort into the presentation of their food."

"Wanda once wanted to be chef," Pietro smiled in memory, "We were seven and mama and papa got Wanda one of those...um…"

"Easy bake ovens?" Tilda asked.

Nodding vigorously, Pietro continued, "Yes! That! Wanda would bake all the time. They never came out good, but I eat anyway."

Wanda flashed her brother a scolding, yet warm smile while shaking her head. It was easy for anyone to see the love radiating between the two. The Vision and Tilda smiled, knowing that even though they were the significant others of the twins, they could never come close to the bond the Maximoffs had with each other. And honestly that was fine - it was a beautiful thing to be a spectator to.

"What are you two doing today?" Pietro decided to ask. Deciding he needed to be more open about his sister's relationship.

"We were going to go into the city today and see the Metropolitan Museum of Art." The Vision explained melodically.

Eyebrows furrowed in, Pietro asked, "Don't you think you will get stares?"

"I can shapeshift to take on the attributes of a _normal_ human."

"Then why do you not look like that always?"

Before Vision was able to respond, Wanda quickly explained, "Because this is his true form," Looking over at the android, the telepathic held his hand, "And I love him for who he is."

Pietro felt like an asshole. Frowning, he quickly nodded and wished, "You two have fun. Bring umbrellas, it is supposed to rain today."

Wanda nodded and kissed her brother's cheek, before getting up. Tilda watched as the Vision shapeshifted into a handsome African American male in a simple tee shirt and jeans. The two walked off after the female twin dropped off her dirty dish. Pietro had almost forgotten about eating, frowning when he realized his food was cold.

"I feel like swimming today." Tilda stated, once Pietro came back with a fresh plate of food.

Head picking up, the runner grinned and nodded, "There is swimming pool here. Do you have bathing suit?"

Tilda shook her head, "No, but SHIELD has a supply closet and there's water tactical gear. I'll grab it and meet you down there?"

Pietro nodded and sped out of the room, the air whooshing against her hair. Tilda smiled, while modestly standing up. As much as it pained her, she didn't want to tell him that water seemed to ease her aching bones. That she was feeling the effects of dying more than she led on. She just didn't want to worry him. He had been so good to her, she just wanted to play pretend a little while longer.

* * *

Pietro had already jumped into the pool by the time Tilda arrived, "Couldn't wait for me, huh?"

Grinning ear to ear, the Sokovian dunked the back of his head into the cool water to wet his hair, "I could not help myself. Very nice, beruska."

Tilda rolled her eyes at his hand motions, outlining an hourglass figure as she stepped to the edge of the pool. The tattooed woman wore a black two piece, which as much as SHIELD tried to say was practical for underwater missions; it wasn't. Still, it served a purpose for her, not wanting to be in her bra and underwear where anyone could walk in.

Easing into the water, she stiffened only slightly when Pietro's hands grabbed her waist. Knowing he was only doing so to help her in, Tilda let herself go and fell into his arms. They were in the low end of the pool, but that was still five feet and she was only five inches taller than that. With the Sokovian being almost six feet, he was able to give her better grounding.

That was a fact that Pietro clearly took advantage of, grinning as he dipped further into the water and began drifting backwards into the deeper part. Keeping her arms around his neck, Tilda glared, "You know, I could start a wave pool right now."

"And I could start tornado," Pietro challenged playfully, leaning forward to gently kiss her lips, "Being fast has perks. Do not worry, I will not let you drown."

"I can swim."

Running his hands up and down her sides, Pietro mused, "Stark put lot into this place. It has so much. And he does not even live here."

As the two bobbed up and down in the water, Tilda shrugged and pointed out, "All Tony has in this world is money. I'm sure this didn't even put a dent into his funds. I think he isn't used to really having friends, and he knows he's messed up on things, so he compensates by buying us things. It's very generous."

"He is insecure man. I can tell. Pity. He has lovely woman by his side. And, I like him, despite what he did." Pietro shrugged, reaching to tuck a wet strand of orange hair behind her ear.

"I've never met Pepper before," The agent pulled gently away from Pietro, floating in the cool water, "It's funny...everyone seems to have someone here."

Dipping down to his neck, Pietro began to tally them off, "I have you, Stark has Pepper, Clint has wife, Wanda has The Vision," Trying to remember everyone, he exclaimed, "Thor has lady friend! I do not know about War Machine and I don't think Falcon has anyone. Who am I missing?"

With a smug smirk, Tilda stated, "Natasha and Steve."

Eyes widening to the size of saucers, Pietro splashed slightly while exclaiming, "The Cap and Black Widow!? How you know that?"

"Natasha and I have worked together plenty in the past," Tilda shrugged, still feeling slightly cocky, "I can read her."

"The Captain and Black Widow," Pietro repeated, finally sinking back and nodding, "That is good pairing. Both soldiers. She look like strong woman, and he like inexperienced school boy. He acts like old man - that is good pairing. Much better than her and Banner. He is nice man, but it was no good. Maybe, I pair him up with someone. Though, Stark is already taken."

Confused, Tilda ran some water over her head and asked, "What do you mean? You would pair Tony and Bruce together?"

Pietro nodded, while explaining, "They are like yin and yang. Both geniuses, but one very arrogant and one very humble. Banner needs someone who treats him like equal, but also knows how to calm him down. I think they would be good for each other, but...Bruce would be top and Stark bottom."

Trying to envision it, Tilda nodded once the image was accepted. As she mused over it, Pietro explained, "Sokovia is not like Russia. There are no laws against homosexuality, but marriage is not legal there. Many old traditions, but I never judged. Wanda and I, we were liberal activists. Many by our sides in protest against the government, were also supporters of gay marriage. We learn much from our time beside them."

"I never understood the opposition of gay marriage. Or even disliking homosexuality in the first place. Then again, I don't think I really thought anyone's sex lives were anyone's business," Tilda shrugged, "But, unfortunately, humans are terrible to each other. It's why we're all in the business that we're in. None of us would have jobs if humans stopped trying to destroy each other."

A frown pulled at Pietro's lips, as he softly spoke, "That is sad to hear."

"I know...I'm sorry for bringing the mood down."

While floating amongst the cool water, the Sokovian pulled his lover closer to his body so to press his wet forehead against her, "You did not. These are truths about the world we live in. If we do not recognize them, we cannot change them."

Tilda smiled in Pietro's arms. It was nice that there were people like him in the world. She knew not everyone had the upbringing she did. Some had much better ones. Loving parents. Nice homes. Accepting families. But, there were also children out there with much worse. Abusive, torturous; there were still places in the world that even loving someone was illegal and could result in death.

At least, there were progressive thinkers like Pietro around.

"You guys are the second couple I walked in on today."

Pietro and Tilda were in the middle of a deep, passionate kiss when the remark pulled them from their daze. Turning their attention towards the voice, they saw Sam Wilson sighing. Standing at the edge of the pool, he was wearing only swim trunks and it was clear that he had wanted to do a few laps that day.

Still in his arms, Tilda inquired, "Who was the first couple?"

Jumping at the question, the Falcon quickly shook his head, "Not important. I'll leave you two to have some alone time."

Just as Sam was about to leave, Pietro called out to him, "No, stay. I promise, we won't make love in front of you." He teased, seeing Tilda roll her eyes as she detached from him and Sam dove in.

As Sam went to begin his laps, Tilda gently tugged at Pietro's full locks, "You're bad."

"You love it."


	13. Chapter 13

TC Stark: Hello! Gosh, you have no idea how happy I am to continue seeing this story doing so well. I did put a lot into it and am quite proud of myself. And it's an artist's highest compliment to hear others speak so highly of it. Thank you again everyone and I hope you all have an absolutely amazing labor day weekend! By the way, things get...really sad here.

Disclaimer: If anyone has read my "Whatever Time We Have Left" story, I am reusing Tilda. I found with that story that I never developed her properly, so I'm revamping her - giving her a fresh coat of wax and throwing her into this story. Also, as much as I love the Cap, I've realized (in my head) she is much better suited in this AU, as this is a Pietro/OC story (with small parts of Cap/Black Widow because they're my OTP). This story is rated M for mature content, such as sex, violence, death, language, etc. I try not to ever be too vulgar, but also don't believe in censorship. This story deals with the serious issues of a fatal medical condition, so there's that. I do not own anyone, except Tilda and my ideas.

Chapter Thirteen

" _I don't know what I'm supposed to do, so I sit down and I cry too. And don't let her see." - Her Diamonds,_ Rob Thomas.

It had started a couple of months from that day. Pietro had been watching cartoons, when he had heard a commotion in the bathroom. Tilda had lost her footing in the shower and fell, but that hadn't been the problem. She complained about her vertigo and when they had visited Bruce, he confirmed she had completely lost her vision in her left eye.

Tilda had thrown up the next morning and Pietro had been glad he had put a trash can besides his bed. The sounds of her dry heaving had woken him up and he gently held her orange hair back, putting it in a ponytail so no strands would get in the way. It reminded him as a young boy, he would help Wanda in the mornings. All the things a mother was supposed to do, even braiding.

After getting her a glass of water, Pietro put a straw in and held it for Tilda to take a sip. She was looking tired and hadn't eaten in a few days. Anything she tried to, she just threw back up. It may have been gross, but she was coughing up blood and her nosebleeds had gotten worse. She was falling apart and they both knew it, but he wouldn't leave her side. The captain already knew not to put him on any missions.

Once setting the half empty glass on the nightstand, Pietro slipped into the bed behind her and held her body against his. Tilda's breaths were labored, closing her eyes as she wheezed, "Why are you so good to me?"

Burying his nose in her hair, Pietro rocked her gently. Truthfully, he was scared. It felt like the incident with his parents all over again. Trapped. Waiting. Not knowing what was going to happen, but knowing it was going to be bad. All he could do was hold her close and try to tell her it would be okay, even if he knew it wouldn't.

Bringing her even more into his body, Pietro leaned in to whisper in her ear, "When you get better, I will take you to Sokovia."

Tilda felt tears in her eyes. Not because she knew that would never happen, but because Pietro was lying for the both of them. They needed to lie. And he was doing so well at it. He was putting on a strong face, just to make her feel better. Just to make sure her last memories, were good ones. No one knew what happened after death, but she hoped she remembered him and his kindness.

"Will you be up for that…?"

Chest tightening, Pietro nodded and lied more, "It is time. I cannot run anymore. Besides, how will we ever have nice life in Sokovia, if I cannot even go there?" Nuzzling her cheek, he assured her, "I will ask help from Clint to fix up house. It will be so nice for both of us. We can get dog, or cat. Whichever you prefer."

With a weak smile, Tilda answered, "I've never had a pet before."

"We could have both. I love animals," Stroking her cheek, he reached down to her stomach and palmed the tight skin, "And if you like, maybe one days we could have children of our own. It is up to you, but you would make beautiful mother."

Biting her lower lip, Tilda laced her fingers with his and tiredly sighed, "Maybe one day."

* * *

Tilda had been running a fever. They had slept all day. The only time either left the bed was to go use the restroom. Wanda could feel her brother's heart break. A single tear escaped her eye, as Vision wiped it away. They had had a meeting too, but neither Pietro nor the telekinetic showed up. Cap understood. He just tried to go on with business as usual, not exactly sure how to approach the situation.

Shifting in her spot, Tilda turned to Pietro and gently shook him. Quicksilver murmured under his breath, before waking up. She was trying hard to keep one eye shut, thinking she looked ridiculous. The other one wasn't much better, everything was blurred. Her throat felt dry and her stomach felt like needles were stabbing her insides.

"Pietro...p-please take me to Banner." Tilda painfully pleaded, reaching to hold her stomach.

Pietro frowned, but nodded. Scooping her up in his arms, he rushed to Bruce's lab. The doctor could see the urgency in the runner's eyes and instructed him where to put Tilda. He had already prepared a hospital bed and worked on hooking her up to monitors and sticking an IV in her arm.

"I'll just...leave you two, okay?" Bruce asked, "I'll be right here if you need me."

Pietro didn't say anything. All he did was bring a chair up to the side and take a hold of Tilda's hand. Bruce nodded to himself and walked away so to give them privacy. Everything was suddenly feeling so real and the Maximoff twin could feel tears welling in his eyes. _Lady Death, please do not take her,_ he prayed.

"Pietro?"

Looking up, Pietro saw Tilda smiling at him while weakly squeezing his hand, "Thank you."

"Why are you thanking me, beruska?"

Tilda smiled, "You know why."

"I love you."

"I love you too…"

The two fell into silence, the gently monitor beeping in his ear. Pietro rested his cheek against her stomach, closing his eyes so to hear her breathing. He wanted so desperately to do something. To somehow find a way to extend her life, but even the thought of leaving made his heart ache.

With his eyes still closed, Pietro began to softly sing. While he did not think of himself as having a good voice, there were songs that every Sokovian knew. And there were songs that every Sokovian sang, no matter how bad they sounded. It was one of the things about living in a poor country, even on the sidewalk, people could be playing cards and declaring their patriotism through drunken song.

"What is that?" Tilda asked, the melody reaching her ears.

Picking up his head, Pietro looked at Tilda and explained, "It is Sokovian lullaby. I used to sing it to Wanda when we were children. Our father sang it to us. And his father sang it to him. I know I have bad voice."

Even though she could barely see, the agent opened her green eyes and smiled at him, "I think you have a nice voice. No one has ever sung me a lullaby before. Maybe I wouldn't make a good mother."

"You would make great mother," Pietro pulled his chair even closer, running his hand across her face, "You would know what child wanted. And I could teach you lullaby. And Sokovian, if you would like."

"It sounds better coming from you."

Smiling warmly, Pietro cooed, " _They are just words._ "

With a tiny laugh, followed by a cough, Tilda arched her back and pointed out, "See? Sounds better coming from you."

Pietro eased her back into the bed, urging her not to overexert herself. Tilda seemed to fall into a slumber at his beckoning, seeing her chest gently rise up and down. Even though he would have liked to talk some more with her, he knew she was in pain. He was simply happy to be by her side in that moment.

"Pietro?" The Sokovian turned his head to see Wanda standing in front of him, tears in her eyes, "I felt your pain."

Finally allowing himself to sob, he welcomed his twin as she sat in his lap, holding him close so that he could cry on her shoulder. He held her tightly around the waist and felt sorrow overcoming it. It was nice having his other half by his side - no one else would understand his pain like she would. Even without powers, they were two sides of a coin and knew the other like they knew themselves.

Turning towards the sleeping woman, Wanda gently touched her hand to her forehead and told her brother, "She is at peace. She is not in pain right now."

"But, she will be. When she wakes up," Pietro held his head, "I do not want to lose her."

"Will you honor her final wish?"

Knowing she could see that in Tilda's head, Pietro nodded, "I will bury her in Sokovia. She will finally know home, even...even in death."

Wanda ran her fingers through Pietro's silver hair, it coming up from the dye. He hadn't bothered touching it up, as he had been too concerned with Tilda. As vibrant as her color was, she could see the light roots of blonde coming in. There had been once that the Sokovian had in fact helped the telekinetic - continuously shocking her with his generosity and understanding of her disease.

"You stay by her side," Wanda kissed Pietro's forehead, standing up while stroking his cheek, "I will be here for you...when…"

Numbly nodding, Pietro murmured, "I know."

Hours had passed. Tilda and gone in and out of consciousness and at that point, and Pietro had climbed onto the hospital bed with her. Her fever was high, her lips were drying. He had gotten ice chips for her, and ran the cool cubes across her forehead. All he could do was rock her back and forth, singing for her when her breathing became too labored.

Adjusting in his hold, Tilda held tightly onto Pietro's hand and whispered, "I want...I…"

"Yes, _moya lyubov'_?" Pietro asked, holding her closer.

A hard gulp slid down her throat, as Tilda attempted to say, "D-Dr….Dr. Shelley...she's still alive...she...H-Hydra...agent...you need to stop her work. S-Stygar...was only the face of the operation...S-Shelley...she wanted an army."

"Who is Dr. Shelley?"

Shaking, Tilda answered weakly, "M-Mom…"

Pietro frowned, as he pulled her closer. While he knew that Dr. Stygar had been the one on trial for the cruel behavior towards his daughter, it stood to reason that there had to be a mother. Yet, no one really knew of her involvement and he wanted to simply scream that there was someone still out there willing to treat children the way Tilda was treated.

And that was when the sounds of Tilda flatlining perked Pietro's ears. Jumping up, his eyes dashed between the monitor and the female agent. Feeling panic plaguing his heart, he screamed desperately, "Banner!"

Bruce dashed in, urging Pietro to get off of the bed so he could properly help out. Quicksilver felt useless, grabbing at his hair while pacing back and forth. The doctor was rushing to get the defibrillator, powering it on before pressing it to Tilda's chest. He held his mouth, tears in his eyes, helpless as he watched the doctor attempt to save his girlfriend.

"Save her!" Pietro desperately shouted.

To which Bruce shouted back, "I'm trying!"

Another shock. Another. Another. Pietro watched Tilda's body jump every time the defibrillator was pressed down upon her. That damn flatlining. He wanted to take that machine and throw it out of the damn window. It wasn't doing them any good - she needed to make it. She needed to live.

Bruce gasped and panted, his hair falling in front of his face as he stood up. Pietro was staring at him wildly, as if asking why he stopped. With a frown, the scientist gulped, "I'm sorry, Pietro. She's gone."


	14. Chapter 14

TC Stark: So, now that I tortured you guys enough this weekend, I present to you chapter fourteen! It honestly made me tear up writing that last chapter, so I am sorry to have done that to you guys, but I am relieved to see it actually met with positive reviews. So, since you guys have been so utterly amazing to me, I present you with the aftermath!

Disclaimer: If anyone has read my "Whatever Time We Have Left" story, I am reusing Tilda. I found with that story that I never developed her properly, so I'm revamping her - giving her a fresh coat of wax and throwing her into this story. Also, as much as I love the Cap, I've realized (in my head) she is much better suited in this AU, as this is a Pietro/OC story (with small parts of Cap/Black Widow because they're my OTP). This story is rated M for mature content, such as sex, violence, death, language, etc. I try not to ever be too vulgar, but also don't believe in censorship. This story deals with the serious issues of a fatal medical condition, so there's that. I do not own anyone, except Tilda and my ideas.

Chapter Fourteen

Bruce had made the announcement. He had left Pietro to grieve over Tilda's dead body, as he went to tell everyone else. Wanda insisted they not bother her brother right away, feeling the sorrow in his soul. All the Sokovian wanted was to mourn over the death of his beloved, holding her limp body last Banner had seen.

A few hours had passed. When Banner had gone back to the lab, Pietro was gone. A sheet covered her body, Bruce guessing he no longer wanted to see her lifeless. He had sighed before stepping towards Tilda, hoping that the runner knew he partially blamed himself. If only maybe he had more time, he could have found a cure.

Steve had gathered the Avengers late that evening, preparing a statement about Tilda's death, when Pietro charged in. He was taking strong, angry steps forward - fury in his eyes. Wanda recognized that look in her brother. He was beyond infuriated, and he was irrational; which meant he was going to do something stupid.

As the Cap stood up, Pietro sped forward and pushed him back. Wanda and Sam stood up, as Steve gestured for them to stand down. Looking at the younger man, Rogers asked, "What is this about?"

Angrily stepping in place, Pietro demanded, "You selfish, arrogant asshole. Why you? Why you get to live? What makes you so _fucking_ special that you get to live and she gets to die?"

"This isn't my fault-"

"It is exactly your fault!" Pietro shouted, "If you had never become _Captain America,_ Tilda would have normal life. What is so great about you? You no end war. You no kill Hitler. You are everything I hated about America - overinflated ego and treated like hero. Tilda could have had normal life. She is dead, because her parents wanted her to be you!"

"Pietro." Wanda scolded, putting herself in front of her brother.

Jaw tightening, Pietro shook his head and refused to be contained, "I will not back down, Wanda. This is his fault. I will avenge Tilda, and then I am going after her mother."

Steve didn't want to fight Pietro. He knew that the enhanced was just being hotheaded and looking for an outlet to take his frustrations out on. Rather than dealing with the sorrow of losing a loved one, he would rather be angry. Rogers understood that and he was sympathetic, which was why he didn't want to battle with the Maximoff.

But, it was clear that a fight was what Pietro wanted. Quicksilver sped around his sister and sent a punch flying across the captain's jaw. It knocked him back, as Steve looked up at the angry Sokovian, "Come, fight like man."

"I'm not going to fight you," The Cap ground his teeth, "You are acting irrationally."

Tears of anger filled his electric eyes, as the Sokovian shouted, "I am acting exactly like man who lost love of his life! You know what that feels like, _Captain_!?"

Standing up, Steve narrowed his eyes and firmly spoke, "Yes. I do. I know what it feels like to lose _everyone_ that I loved. It's kind of what happens when you're frozen for seventy years. Now, if you want to talk about this like an adult, we can. I liked Tilda and I am sorry about what happened to her. Just like, I am sorry what happened to Banner. I had no idea what I was would turn into some sensation - all I did, was volunteer for an experiment that could help me defend my country. I think you could relate to that."

Pietro didn't want to admit that Rogers was right. He wanted to be angry. He wanted to be mad. Tilda was dead and someone needed to pay for it. But, as the words sunk in, he knew that the American was right. Steve could have never anticipated the kind of attention his work as Captain America would gain; he was just a boy from Brooklyn trying to make a difference. Just like the Maximoff twins were trying to find a way to avenge the death of their parents.

Feeling the anger slowly starting to leave his body, Pietro felt stupid, "I am sorry...it was not right of me."

"It's okay," Steve nodded, "I am sorry for your loss."

Pietro nodded numbly, as Wanda walked over to hug her brother. It was in her arms that he allowed himself to break down and cry. Natasha felt bad, she had been witness to a lot of tragedies in her life, but she still didn't know how to comfort people. In a way she felt like maybe they needed to leave the man alone, but at the same time, this felt like something all Avengers needed to be present for.

"I feel like I missed a lot in the five hours I was dead."

The familiar voice got everyone's attention, turning to face the door. Banner sighed, "I really wish you guys checked your email."

Pietro blinked, as he slowly let go of Wanda. Next to Bruce, stood Tilda. Alive and well. Her green eyes shined brightly, showing that she had regained sight in them. Her skin was back to its normal peach color, and she stood up straight; having no signs of being in pain or having ever been dead.

"I...I do not understand." Pietro expressed.

"It's...kind of simple?" Bruce pondered, before explaining, "Tilda was dying, yes. But, not _really_ dying. That's just what we thought, because it was so new to us. You see, Tilda has been exposed to serum and radiation since a young child, but she was born normal. The formula that Steve and I have been exposed to, was only one dose, so our bodies had time to adjust. Tilda's adjusting period, was this whole time. It wasn't that she was dying, her old cells were dying. Once it was all done, she's...reborn, now finally in a body able to sustain her powers. Now, she can use her full potential, without any fear of what it might do to her."

"Apparently I'm immortal now," Tilda snorted, "Go Team superhumans."

Eyes wide, Pietro stepped towards the woman with his hands out, "I...I thought you were dead…"

Frowning, Tilda admitted, "So did I...you were by side until the end."

"I told you I would be."

As if on cue, both mutually began slipping their arms around each other. Pietro took Tilda into his body, burying his face into the crook of her neck as she pressed her cheek against his chest. The Sokovian could feel tears building up once more, holding the back of her head while kissing her hair. He couldn't believe that she was standing before him; still in shock and despair after watching her die.

* * *

Pietro and Tilda had ended up back in his room, not wanting to go to hers just yet. Considering it had been where she had been wilting away for the past few months, she just wanted to be in a place of life and positivity. The Avengers had wanted to give the two privacy during their rekindling, but the runner had lifted the telekinetic up and ran to his apartment, so they could be at peace together.

"You are feeling better?" Pietro asked, lying on the bed and facing Tilda.

Feeling him brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, Tilda smiled, "Better than I ever have before. My mind doesn't feel cluttered, my bones don't ache, and I can actually use my powers without feeling drained afterwards. I feel awake...alive."

It was indescribable how Pietro was feeling. To be with her once more, he felt as if all his prayers had finally been answered. He never wanted to let go of her, in fear that maybe this was all a dream. Maybe his mind was playing tricks on her and he simply couldn't handle the truth about her fate.

"I'm going to take a shower," Tilda murmured, laughing gently, "I feel like I need to brush my teeth."

Smiling, Pietro leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. After relishing in the kiss for a moment, Tilda pulled back and headed towards the bathroom. Life had a completely new meaning for her now. Death was no longer the finish line, and her world didn't need to revolve around preparing to die. A long road was ahead of her now, and she could decide her own fate finally.

After ten minutes, Tilda stepped out of the bathroom. Hair wet, she was simply wearing a towel while asking Pietro, "Now that I'm better...do you still want to be with me?"

Sitting up in the bed, Pietro frowned, "Of course. I want to be with you always."

Tilda bit her lower lip and looked down. Pietro had never really seen her be shy before, but it was the only was he could describe how she was acting. Playing with the hem of her towel, the tattooed woman looked back up and expressed, "Now that I'm not dying...I want...I want you to make love to me."

Tilting his head, Pietro slowly stood up from the bed and crossed the room to cup her cheeks with his hands. Tilda's green eyes were staring up into his, as the runner asked, "Tilda?"

"I've never...before. And I didn't want to, because I didn't want it to be a mercy fuck. I didn't want to feel like, it was a pity thing. You know...give the dying girl an orgasm," Breathing in, Tilda admitted, "But, now that I know...I have my whole life ahead of me...I want nothing more...than to finally feel what it's like...I want to have that with you."

Resting his forehead against hers, Pietro closed his eyes and admitted, "I want nothing more than to give that to you; only if you will have me."

 _Notes: I'm ending the chapter here to break it up, next chapter will feature lemony goodness!_


	15. Chapter 15

TC Stark: Here it is, people, the moment (I think) You have all been waiting for! Thank you to all my amazing reviewers! It means so much to me you took the time to read my stuff and actually review. I am glad you guys liked the turn I took in bringing Tilda back. I had never any intentions of keeping her deceased, but...it initially just made for really good sadness lol Lemon ahead!

Disclaimer: If anyone has read my "Whatever Time We Have Left" story, I am reusing Tilda. I found with that story that I never developed her properly, so I'm revamping her - giving her a fresh coat of wax and throwing her into this story. Also, as much as I love the Cap, I've realized (in my head) she is much better suited in this AU, as this is a Pietro/OC story (with small parts of Cap/Black Widow because they're my OTP). This story is rated M for mature content, such as sex, violence, death, language, etc. I try not to ever be too vulgar, but also don't believe in censorship. This story deals with the serious issues of a fatal medical condition, so there's that. I do not own anyone, except Tilda and my ideas.

Chapter Fifteen

Tilda wrapped her arms around Pietro, closing the gap between their lips. The Sokovian's hands encircled her waist, pulling her flush against his body while deepening the kiss. Somehow, it felt different than any other time in the past. Both parties could feel the rejuvenation that the telekinetic felt inside of her. It brought this beautiful energy into the picture that was being transferred back and forth through their connection.

Pietro's frame gently pushed Tilda's back up against the wall, feeling their fronts curve into each other. They had held each other plenty of times. Over the past month or so, she felt ninety-five percent of her day had been spent in bed, with the Sokovian cuddling her. But, this was different. In the past, him being so close eased her mind. Calmed her. Right now, it was warming her and waking up every one of her senses.

Sinking his hips into hers, the friction of his slight gyrating motions pulled at the towel covering her body. Not that he hadn't seen her nude before - being the one to find her in the shower when she had lost sight. Tilda felt different in that moment. She could feel the barrier falling down and could have very well used her powers to keep it up, but didn't. Though nervous, she felt her breath hitch as she became exposed for him to see.

Not breaking the kiss, Pietro flung the towel out of the way and scooped his lover up in his arms. He could feel her nude, toned skin in his hands and wanted nothing more than to explore her. If Tilda had wanted, he would have never pushed her into a sexual relationship, but knowing she wanted it, and her having even requested it, he could feel a fire erupting in his belly that needed to be sated.

Laying her down on the bed, Pietro pulled back to observe the woman below him. Slightly out of breath, Tilda's ample chest rose gently up and down. They were round and fit perfectly into the palm of his hand, firm yet soft and he could see her nipples already hardening from excitement.

Tilda didn't have just tattoos on her arm, but littered around her body. Pietro thought they only highlighted her toned body and made her curves even more enticing for him. Her green eyes watched his gaze, gauging how he felt about what he saw, "Do you like what you see?" She decided to ask; not so much for vanity, but for confirmation sake.

"I do not like," Pietro huskily breathed, coating her body while moving his lips to her neck, "I _love_ what I see."

His deep, accented words sent a chill down her spine, sparking excitement between her legs as she felt Pietro attack her neck. Tilda tensed only for a moment, before her body opened up for him. The feel of his mouth sucking at her skin made her head dizzy, arching her back uncontrollably - as if he was the master of her movements; controlling the strings.

Pulling away, Pietro quickly grabbed his shirt and pulled it up over his head, flinging it to the side. Tilda's hand went to reach for his chest, but the man ducked down before she could. Nipping her collarbone, he bent down to begin kissing at her full breasts, flicking his tongue lightly at one pert nipple.

Tilda cooed at the sensation, lifting her arms above her head as Pietro kissed along the curve of her breast. His left hand reached to cup the other, kneading the flesh gently as he took her dusty point into his mouth. He could feel her legs shaking slightly, but what he didn't know was why. He didn't know that she was feeling like maybe this was wrong. Maybe humans weren't meant to do this.

As his teeth played with her nipple, she quickly changed her mind. Pulling the flesh slightly, Pietro turned to give the same attention to the other breast. Tilda could feel warmth rising within her, twisting slightly under him as the new experience played out before her. The Sokovian was doing all of the worked - appreciating every inch of her body. His full lips kissing down in between her beautiful mounds and reaching her hipbone.

When Pietro scooped up the orange haired woman's firm, round ass and went to move her legs, Tilda got up onto her elbows, "Pietro…"

Looking up from his position, Pietro smiled while gently bringing her leg so to hang off of his shoulder, "Do not worry, _apel'sin._ "

With her heart practically thumping in her throat, Tilda watched as Pietro's attention moved down to the flower in between her legs. She had never been more aware of her sex than in that moment, wanting nothing more than to shut her legs and move away from him. Perhaps it was a good thing that one of the side effects from the experiments and radiation was a lack of hair from the waist down. It didn't really need to be said what Dr. Stygar had intended for her daughter once the right age was reached.

Reaching out, Pietro gently fanned her intimate lips to get a full view of her flower. The moment Tilda felt him touch her most private part, she jerked slightly, but relaxed when she heard him humming softly. It was slightly nerve wracking, but once she felt the wet surface of the man's tongue slide up her slit, she wasn't nervous anymore.

As Pietro sunk his face further into the telekinetic's warm flower, his hand reached up to knead at her left breast. His tongue ran up her slit, tasting her womanly aroma and drowning in her sweet scent. Tilda's sex heated up with every flick against her now throbbing clitoris, stimulating her in a way she had never been before.

Sucking gently on her engorged bud, Pietro used his free hand to slip down her inner thigh and run up to the bottom of her opening. With his help and her being aroused, Tilda had become wet and he took a moment to smear her sticky fluid across her sex before sticking a finger inside. Though coated plenty in her bodily lubricant, the virgin winced slightly before being lulled back into an intoxicated stupor.

While adding a second digit, Pietro's assault on her clit sped up and Tilda found herself bucking slightly. She was drowning in the pool of desire, overwhelmed with the new feeling, and not prepared for what was next. Toes curling, she clutched onto the bedsheets and whined, "P-Pietro!"

With his hand on her abdomen, Pietro kept her still while continuing his duel attack on her womanhood. Pumping two fingers inside the wet and wanting hole, he made sure to scissor the plush walls with every flick of his tongue. Even without his abilities, he knew he was intuned enough with her body to make her putty in his hands.

Closing her eyes, Tilda felt the start of something brewing inside her. With the constant stimulation and the pumping of his manly fingers, her body began involuntarily bucking. It struck her that she was having an orgasm. Her first orgasm. And it was a beautiful explosion of uncontrollable bliss and twisting mayhem that practically blinded her and tightened the muscles in her stomach.

Tilda's legs lifted and her body curled, as Pietro continued, screaming, "Pietro! Pietro! Fuck!"

Satisfied by her reaction, Pietro finally stopped his attack on her sex. He could feel her body finally relaxing, plopping back down on the bed, as she breathed heavily. The Sokovian placed one final kiss onto her bud, before pecking gently at her inner thighs. He could have stayed there forever, drinking in her wonderful scent.

Taking in a deep breath, Pietro crawled on top of the exhausted superhuman. Her chest was still flushed and she was still trying to catch her breath. With a smile, he brushed back her orange hair and placed a loving kiss on her lips. Tilda could taste her womanhood on his mouth and it strangely aroused her, as if breathing new life into her spent body. Despite having just climaxed, she wrapped her arms around his neck, wanting more. Wanting to be closer than before.

Running her hands through his full locks, Tilda tilted her head to receive the softly kiss Pietro placed upon her lips, "Are you ready for more?" He asked sweetly, placing small pecks on her mouth.

Mindlessly nodding, Tilda smoothed her hands over his chiseled chest and bit her lower lip, "You have no idea how long I've waited for this."

A beautiful smile came over Pietro's face, pushing his lips against hers before sitting up. Before he was able to reach down and begin undoing his pants, Tilda started for him. Only with her powers, which did admittedly freak the Sokovian out for a moment, before he started laughing gently. It was actually exciting to watch the zipper being slowly pulled down by unseen forces. Even his length twitched in excitement.

With their eyes connected, Pietro pushed his pants down and kicked the article of clothing off onto the floor. Tilda's gaze was locked onto his erect staff, standing up with the smallest amount of pre-cum glistening at the tip. Though not having really seen a penis up close and personal, she still knew that he was blessed in both length and width.

Tilda felt her hand being picked up and she didn't particularly pay attention, until her fingers were being wrapped around the firm manhood. Eyes wide, she looked up at the grinning Pietro who glided her grip up and down his length. He wanted her to get used to him, to know that it was a tool of pleasure and not pain.

Lust and need were filling Tilda's eyes, as Pietro bent over her body, pushing her further into the bed. Taking one hand into his, he laced his fingers with her and held it above her head as his other hand reached down to lift her smooth leg and wrap it around his waist. She could feel the tip so close to her entrance, gulping as she knew she needed it and needed it now.

"Do it. Please."

Kissing her once more, Pietro dipped his hips down and felt her warm slit catch the head of his staff. He could hear her breath hitch, but with his comforting words she eased so to take the tip pushing further into her wet void. Feeling how tight she was even caused him to groan, keeping himself up as he held her close to his body.

Holding onto him, Tilda pulled her mouth away from his to relish in the maddening sensation of being deflowered. Pietro pushed forward and she could feel her walls stretching, arching her back until he was comfortably seated to the hilt. It was a blur of feeling satisfied, pushed to her limits, and hedonistic all at the same time. It was new, intrusive, her nerve endings all stimulated. Throbbing. Wanting more.

"Are you okay?" The runner kindly asked, seeing Tilda wordlessly nod.

Scooping Tilda's behind up with his free arm, Pietro held the telekinetic close as he began moving his hips. When his girth began shifting back and forth inside of her that was when her world was thrown into chaos. Green eyes wide, she keened in wanton abandon as his thick organ pressed against every nerve ending.

When Pietro felt Tilda loosen up, he freely rotated his hips to pump in and out of the snug opening. The Sokovian's lovemaking was passionate and intense, but as much as her wet walls drove him mad, he made sure to be careful. They could both be argued that the other was more durable than a normal human being, but this was still her first time and he didn't want to hurt her.

Threading her fingers through his wild hair, Tilda panted hard with each thrust inwards. His strokes were long. He would practically pull himself all the way out, before guiding himself back in. Over and over. The ride was just as good as the jab against her cervix, sending shocks of excitement all up and down her spine. He may have been called Quicksilver, but his sex was sensual and drawn out. For that moment they slowed down and had a piece of heaven, at least that's what it felt like to her.

Tilda was a fast learner, and with her one leg wrapped around his waist, she ran her hands across his own firm buttocks and began bucking upwards. Pietro grinned at the response, bowing down to suck at her neck as he pulled her up closer to him. His body was practically hunched over hers, tilting her hips up more to sit in his lap so he was thrusting as deep as he could into her.

Grabbing onto her breast, Pietro grunted lustfully into her ear, " _Keep moaning, my love, I want to hear my name on your tongue."_

"I...have. No. Idea...what you said." Tilda panted hard, gritting her teeth as their hips slapped against each other in a repetitive fashion.

Holding her forehead, the man wordlessly sucked at her jawline while swinging his hips into hers. With every thrust inwards, Pietro could feel his cock throbbing. Tilda hugged him so tightly and warm, making it hard for him to think. He loved the small slapping sounds of their bodies crashing against each other. The feel of her juices coating his manhood. The way she gripped onto his ass for support. Sweat was wetting the tips of his hair, but he didn't care. His body was a machine, plummeting into the vast sea of passion, love, and lust.

It was when her nails scraped at the back of his neck that Pietro rammed hard, long strokes into Tilda until he felt his orgasm rushing out of him. Thrusting in as much as he could, the Sokovian pulled out before his seed spilled onto the sheets below them. The sudden removal had her gasping for air, reaching down to cup her sex as if she were afraid of something falling out; like him not being there anymore was unnatural.

Pietro held his manhood in his hand, gasping as his fluids seemed to still be spilling out, wondering how long it truly had been since he last had sex. Perhaps he should have been smarter and used protection, but he was glad that he didn't. Glad that he was able to feel that physical connection with her, and luckily he had pulled out just in time.

Tilda was still panting, going to close her legs and still holding her core. Letting go of his softening staff, Pietro cupped his lover's cheeks and asked, "Are you hurt, Tilda?"

In a daze, she shook her head while reaching up to cup her free hand over one of his, "No...no...I've...I've never felt better in my whole life…" That was when tears began to form in her eyes, gripping onto his fingers and tiredly whispering, "Thank you...for everything."

"You do not have to thank me for anything," Pietro assured her, carefully picking her up so they could both lay down on the soiled sheets. Keeping Tilda close in his arms, he kissed her forehead lovingly and promised, "Never."


	16. Chapter 16

TC Stark: So...here comes the time...to say goodbye. I know, last chapter of the story. I should have given some warning and I'm sorry about that. I wanted to write a complete story, wrapped up in a bow. Please tell me if I achieved that. I hope I told the story well and I thank from the bottom of my heart all of my reviewers and followers. You guys gave me a high I never wanted to come down from! I wanted to end this story in the same tone of the story - a love tale. I am working on a sequel, but I won't put it out right away simply because I want to see where I want to go with it. Thank you again!

Disclaimer: If anyone has read my "Whatever Time We Have Left" story, I am reusing Tilda. I found with that story that I never developed her properly, so I'm revamping her - giving her a fresh coat of wax and throwing her into this story. Also, as much as I love the Cap, I've realized (in my head) she is much better suited in this AU, as this is a Pietro/OC story (with small parts of Cap/Black Widow because they're my OTP). This story is rated M for mature content, such as sex, violence, death, language, etc. I try not to ever be too vulgar, but also don't believe in censorship. This story deals with the serious issues of a fatal medical condition, so there's that. I do not own anyone, except Tilda and my ideas.

Chapter Sixteen

Saturdays were not normally days someone would choose to wake up early on. The work week was done, and usually Friday nights were for partying, so the next day would be spent sleeping in. Children were happy not to get ready for school and their parents let out a silent sigh in relief, hoping to maybe have some time to themselves before having to go back to being a mother or father.

It didn't matter what day it was, Tilda always woke up early. Considering the fact that she had spent the past month or so in bed, she didn't want to feel like a dying person anymore. Life went on as usual and she was slowly getting back to her daily routine. It had only been two weeks, but she was feeling better than ever. More awake. Stronger. Lighter. More alive. It made jogging at seven in the morning so much easier.

The sun was barely in the sky as Tilda jogged in the nearby park. Normally, she had confined herself to the Avengers facility. Their gym, their tracks, even their swimming pool. For some reason, since becoming better; she had felt the need to be more social. Sure, she never said a word to any other fellow jogger, but it was nice being around people. She had avoided them for too long, it was time to be a civilian of the world again.

Perhaps it was Pietro's sunny disposition that was helping her. It would be fitting. The man had helped her through her final months; it would stand to reason that he would also help her in her recovery. Tilda had had a slight fear that now that she wasn't going anywhere that perhaps the Sokovian would want to back away from the relationship, but he seemed more involved than ever. This time, they could be a normal couple; without knowing there was an end in sight.

After her second lap, Tilda stopped to check her vitals. She was staring at her watch, when a blur of silver and blue stopped in front of her, "You're late."

"I was picking out my shoes," Pietro defended himself, "I do not think I like these."

With a cunning smirk, Tilda lightly scolded him, "Don't lie. You were sleeping in."

The Sokovian smiled, as they began to casually walk the path of the park, "I am sorry. Waking up early, it is not my preference. I would rather be in bed," Wrapping his arm around her waist, Pietro slyly grinned, "With you."

"Easy, tiger." Tilda smiled gently, feeling ultimately satisfied by his comment. Not only was she alive, but her sexual awakening had finally happened. It felt like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. No longer fearful of sex, she saw it as just another way for her and Pietro to express their feelings towards each other. It wasn't just a physical act, and it made her feel even more connected to him, as well as herself.

"There is nice bakery in town. We get coffee and breakfast there after this?" Pietro pointed out.

Stretching out her arms, Tilda tilted an eyebrow upwards, "We're about to go for a run and you're planning out eating Bear Claws after this?"

The Sokovian held his stomach and complained, "I am already hungry, beruska, I will be starving. You will have to carry me to bakery. I will not make it."

Tilda rolled her eyes at Pietro's dramatics, but ultimately smiled at his antics. Seeing her amused brought joy to him, chuckling at how she attempted to hide her enjoyment of his joking around. Content, he stuck his hands in his pockets and walked along with the agent, simply enjoying the morning air with him.

"So...I found an artist."

"Wonderful! Have you picked spot yet?" Pietro asked.

With a nod, Tilda replied, "I'm thinking the top of my right foot. It's not going to be very big. I just kept looking at my foot and I can picture the tattoo perfectly. Plus, the guy isn't going to charge me that much. I think he's done a lot of Jade elephants."

Wrapping his arm around her shoulders, the Sokovian smiled, "I do not think it will be generic, because it will be yours. I can come with you to get it, yes? Maybe I pick out something. I want to look like tough New York man."

"I think the bullet wounds make you plenty _manly._ " Tilda snorted gently.

Pietro chortled gently at her comment, simply enjoying the morning with her. Though he was not the type to get up early, he wanted to share in Tilda's routine. He had been serious when he told her that he would always be there for her. That didn't just mean until she died - he had wanted nothing more for her to live. Now, it felt like they had been given a second chance and though not the most religious man, he felt very blessed.

For now, they were still Avengers. Still agents of SHIELD. They still had jobs to do. Tilda was still an agent. As for him, he knew he wanted to volunteer somehow. Help out the world. They had both been given abilities and he saw that they needed to apply them in a more positive way. It was the time to do that. One day, he would take her to Sokovia and they would live in a way neither were allowed to growing up.

Today just wasn't that day.

Reaching down to grab her hand gently, Pietro lifted it to his lips before admitting, "I have been doing research. I have news."

"What is it?"

Pietro stopped them for a moment, turning her to face him. With her attention on him, the Sokovian admitted, "Before you...before you died, you told me Dr. Shelley was still alive. She was still performing experiments. Is she really your mother?"

Tilda's lips were pulled downwards, shifting uncomfortably before nodding, "She donated her egg for the creation, yes. Dr. Shelley worked close with Dr. Stygar. While my father was simply a scientist, she really worked under Hydra. It was always the plan to use that research to further Hydra's army."

"Would you be mad to hear I have been doing research? I have found records. Scientists who last worked with her."

Tilting an eyebrow up, the agent looked at him skeptically, "Who have you asked?"

"Fury."

Tilda slowly nodded as she took in his words. She wasn't mad at him digging deeper into the Dr. Shelley subject. After all, they had been her final words to him. Admittedly, she had been selfish over the years. Bitter even. Dying had a way of doing that to someone - so, she hadn't very much concentrated on the mission of bringing down the scientist who had part in her upbringing. She was an agent. She did the missions she was told. Now that she was better, and not assigned to anything at the moment; it was time to start thinking about her side project again.

Reaching up, Tilda gently pulled Pietro down by his collar. The Sokovian wrapped his thick arms around her fit waist, pushing his lips against hers eagerly. Grinning, the runner rubbed the small of her back as they gently kissed one another. Having someone who made them feel so alive was gratifying, invigorating. The telekinetic wasn't sure if she had ever loved anyone before, but she knew she loved him.

While pulling away, Tilda asked, "Are you prepared to take on something like this?"

"I did not volunteer for this experiment so I could do nothing with my powers. I did this, so I could right wrongs. I took care of mine, now we take care of yours." Pietro promised, displaying that passion that always led him towards the life of an activist - something Tilda had come to admire about him.

Sighing, Tilda stayed in his arms and admitted, "I want to take on Dr. Shelley. I want nothing more to bring her operations down. To stop her experiments. I think...the Avengers definitely need to be aware of this woman. I know that she would not have stopped with me. My father...he was solely focused on me. But, she was colder than he was. She wanted to start new when she knew the damage the experiments had on me."

Frowning, Pietro held her closer to him while pressing his forehead against hers, "I will find her. I will make her pay."

Tilda balled her fists onto his chest, feeling his love radiate off of his being and engulf her. Since day one, Pietro only wanted to help her. Protect her. It was endearing and powerful. Sometimes, it was more powerful than she was prepared for. She was an agent. These kinds of missions were ones she was always sent on. Somehow though, it didn't feel right. Not right now.

"Maybe...maybe we can do this. But...we have your mission first."

Confused, Pietro asked, "What is my mission, beruska?"

Reaching up, Tilda touched her hand to his cheek and explained, "When I was dying, you told me about Sokovia. About the house there waiting for you. You promised me that you would have the strength to go back. I think, right now; that is more important. It's important you see your home country again."

"But, what about you?"

"You have taken care of me this whole time, Pietro," Tilda explained softly, "Let me take care of you."

Pietro held her close to his body, rocking her gently as he tried not to let tears run down his cheeks. Admittedly, he was a little scared. It wasn't that he was lying to her, he meant every word. But, the idea now of going back to Sokovia was frightening and he felt that he needed Tilda more than ever.

Ultimately, Pietro nodded, knowing she was right. Tilda held onto him as they stood there in silence. It was going to be a powerful journey and at the moment, it was the most important mission of her life. Though she knew he never gave without wanting anything in return, she knew it was her turn to give back to him.

Taking in a large breath, Pietro kissed Tilda quickly before asking, "We go for bear claws now?"

Laughing, Tilda pulled away from the Sokovian and stated, "Laps first. Pastries second."

" _Noooo!"_


End file.
